Suffer not the Xenos to Live
by Advicepuppy
Summary: An Imperial Guarsman's life is changed forever as he clears an eldar dwelling on the craftworld of Yul'Te. An epic journey, a story of love, hope, despair, suffering, and death. EXTREMELY GRAPHIC, Contains adult themes though not tactless .
1. The Embodiment of Purity

**So, this is the extended version of my original one-shot. I decided to keep it, and then continue in a slightly changed version that is more canon, and will turn into what I hope will be a damned good story. Here's the first chapter, and I guess I'll thank you in advance for reading. This is only my first fic beyond a couple of pages, and the third that I've ever written as far as I can remember… actually the fourth, I remember writing one in 8****th**** grade (Senior in High School now). You might also notice some random changes in tense. I'm not sure why, but they pop up and I can't really control them. They do not, however, appear to switch in the middle of sentences, more like chunks of the story might be in present and others in past. I don't know why, but that's the way I write. If it detracts, I'd love some advice on how to improve this issue or write in one tense. So yeah, here goes… a continuous stream of literary goodness pulled out of my ass (meaning made on the spot). Well, here goes :P**

Pre-Alaitoc Assault (When humans needed less provocation to attack craftworlds)

He lifted his boot, shifting his balance toward his other foot planted on the ground and, leaning forward, kicked out with all of his might. The door was made of some kind of relatively weak material, as was indicated by it being completely dislodged from its mounts. The interior of the small building, what appeared to be a hab, and one of the many lining the road down which he had stalked, was dark. Light crept in from the open doorway, casting his elongated shadow across the floor and onto the wall opposite him. There was some overturned furniture; it appeared that the inhabitants had left with haste. In the middle of this "city", on some corner of an Eldar craftworld, Andron Jarek now found himself. He and his unit had been called upon, sent light-years across the galaxy, spent months upon a troop transport, and had arrived on this craftworld, Yul'Te, they had called it. He and his unit had been sent to scout ahead, searching for a route to flank behind the xenos scum and eradicate them and their unholy existence from the universe. His squadmates were moving to search other buildings in the area. He was alone.

Andron raised his lasrifle, activated the lamp attached to the bottom of its handguard, and stalked into the dwelling. Despite his mind being almost utterly focused on staying alive against a foe so dangerous, he noticed several things as he trained his rifle and its light across the walls. The smell; food… Someone had been cooking something. He saw smoke curling through his lamp's beam, and after scanning the rest of what was the equivalent of a living room, he assumed, entered the room from which the smoke was coming.

He trained his light across the room, and saw nobody. Upon a burner sat a pot filled with some kind of meal which was now burning with increasing life. He coughed, and moved it. The smoke began to clear, and he could see more clearly once again. He took in his surroundings.

A table, surrounded by four mats, exotically shaped goblets, a clear container of the one thing that connected every race, no matter how different: water, all sat upon the table. The walls were a combination of green and purple, with curving patterns lining them. He hears the faintest bump above him, and instinctively snaps his rifle toward where the noise came from. Staring at the ceiling, he then looks for a staircase. He clears two more rooms, and finds a staircase. It curves gently upwards, and leads to another floor roughly ten feet above the last.

He widens his stance, and snaps his rifle down to both ends of the hallway.

_Nothing_…

Three doorways lead to separate rooms from the hall. He enters the closest one first. Taking a deep breath, he pivots around the doorframe, leveling his rifle and training it across the room.

_Still nothing…_

There is a thick mat on the floor, its coverings disorderly and tossed about. There is a small door in the wall. He slowly creeps up to it and, holding his rifle heavy with one hand, reaches out to open the door. His heart pounding, every horror pict he had ever seen as a child flashing through his mind, he pulls open the door. He lets out a short cry as a robe falls to the floor.

_You gakking fool! This is not how a brave servant of the God-Emperor is supposed to behave!_

He exits the room, his nerves returning to normal. He enters the second room, which appears to be a washroom. There is another robe neatly folded on a shelf.

_Heh, like my father used to wear…_

The third door is closed. Andron is sure he heard something, and he can feel his pulse in his head. He opens and closes his fingers upon the grips of his lasrifle, and positions himself next to the door frame, with his rifle held up. He squints, takes a deep breath, opens his eyes once more, and kicks down the door, pointing his lasrifle across the room. After a split second as his mind interprets what it's seeing, his blood runs cold and his breath catches in his throat.

In the corner directly across from him, is one of them.

_She is unarmed._

She wears a gown of red. It rolls softly off of her shoulders, and its somewhat excessive length piles itself on the floor. She is tall. Even though she is crouched, he can tell that she most likely stands slightly over six feet tall. Every cell in his body is screaming at him to not do what he does next. Every ounce of his faith is demanding he pull the trigger, end her blasphemous existence and be done with it. He'd told himself he'd never do it, because even though he had his faith and his courage, it would make it personal.

He looks into her eyes.

Anger, sadness, the slightest amount of fear, comes from her eyes. Even in the darkness, he can see that they are green. Her hair is long, nearly down her back, and golden, yet so light as to be nearly white. It shines gently in the sunlight intruding into the room. Her long, pointed ears protrude from her hair, angled slightly upwards and extending elegantly back. The color of her skin is similar to his. Not pale, not dark. Her nose is somewhat pointed, her entire face slightly angular and remotely alien, but strangely…

_Do. NOT!_

Andron's grip tightens upon his rifle. She stands. He was right; she is taller than him by a few inches. The gown's slack is taken up, and it tightens around her form. Andron inhales sharply.

The gown is thin, flowing delicately down her body. It hangs loosely on her shoulders, and his gaze follows it downward. It falls over her breasts, and then returns to molding around her body as it continues toward the floor. Her sides curve elegantly inward, before rolling out again at her hips. The light on his rifle silhouettes her figure to a degree under the gown. She is the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

_Woman? This is a xenos! It is an affront to the God-Emperor! It must be destroyed!_

_Why? This craftworld was nowhere near any human planets, it was only found by long-range scouts. It posed no threat._

_YOU DO NOT QUESTION YOUR FAITH! YOU SERVE WITH UNWAVERING LOYALTY AND DEVOTION, AND DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD!_

Andron is snapped back to reality as he hears the distinct crack of lasrifle shots from nearby. He glances at the woman's face again. A tear runs down her face. It pains him to see it.

His earpiece crackles into life, and he hears faint yelling and swearing, with another voice yelling for presumably the one yelling to stop moving. He also hears laughter.

"_We found one of the vermin in a hab out here. Looks like an older one. The son of a bitch shot Horkun; got him right in the ass. Dumb bastard probably never fired a weapon in his life. So yeah, everything's dead here."_

Andron looks the woman in the eyes, her angelic and alien beauty consuming his thoughts once again. She stares Andron in the eyes. More tears begin to stream down her face. Her lip quivers ever so slightly. She likely knew whoever it was who now lay dead. She sighs, drawing in and exhaling a trembling breath, her breasts rising and falling with the action. Andron begins to breathe heavily, taking note. Everything about her is simply divine. She is the most perfect thing he has ever seen. Every terrible thing he had ever done in service of the Emperor pales in comparison to destroying something so beautiful, xenos or not. Orks deserved to die, Tryanids deserved to die, but she was the embodiment of the last glimmer of hope and good in this paradise-turned-warzone. He flexes his hands on his rifle once again. His mind tells him to shoot, to burn, to destroy what stands in front of him in the Emperor's Holy Fire. However his heart, his soul, and his morality, no matter how impacted by his faith, say otherwise.

"_Jarek, you got anything?"_

_It is your duty! You are bound by your service to kill them!_

_It's not right!_

_Will you be a heretic? Will you betray humanity? It is not "right". It is heresy!_

He has reached the most important crossroads in his life. The next three seconds will determine who he is for the rest of his life. He will have to live with his decision until the day he dies. Both have horrendous ramifications. Everything he has seen in the past ten minutes flashes through his mind. These were not animals he was looking at. She was a woman, a daughter, a sister, not some warp-borne daemon or a mindless killing machine. She had been living a peaceful life before it was utterly shattered by him and his comrades, who he was beginning to loathe. He also remembered a fact he had learned off-hand about the eldar: They live for nearly a thousand years. He is surprised he has made it even to twenty-two. In front of him stands centuries of potential, of life to be had or extinguished. The choice, however, falls on him, the man who will live a blink of an eye in the life of the woman whose fate rests in his hands. He makes his decision.

"Clear."


	2. To Bridge the Gap

**Written while listening to Manowar. \m/**

_You are forsaken._

Andron sighed as long as his lungs would allow. He is a heretic, a blasphemous, filthy, treasonous heretic. Yet through the guilt storming in his mind, he feels another emotion begin to break through. He feels just, righteous, and clean. He feels more holy than he ever had as he burnt countless lives to ash. He has made a commitment, however. His life is now forfeit because he has chosen to spare the woman in front of him. His investment cannot go in vain, as surely his comrades… he is beginning to hate that… would find out. His lasrifle is still pointed at them.

She stares into his eyes, threatening to pull him from reality once again. He averts his gaze slightly, attempting to avoid her completely and, in an action that his body once again objects vehemently, lowers his weapon.

He looks back up to her, and relaxes his stance to a less threatening one, his rifle hanging at his side. She still weeps for the death of her kin. Andron's heart is wracked with guilt and sadness at the sight. He takes a step closer, now fully inside the room. She backs up against the wall opposite him, breathing faster. He stops his advance, a look of hurt on his face. To think that he is feared is no longer an empowering idea. Right now, he hates it. He raises both his hands in front of him in a calming gesture, and slowly reaches toward his back to unsling his rifle.

She sees his movement and gasps in horror at the evil of the human in front of her, deceiving her into thinking that she would be spared. She had abandoned the path of the warrior long ago, and as a follower of the path of the Artisan, remembered little of her past experiences as a Howling Banshee, her training and memories buried deep within the back of her mind, unable to be called upon on such short notice. This Mon'Kiegh was going to kill her in cold blood. She cannot say that she didn't expect it, however. She had little hope of surviving the war, and her time had come. Her only real fear was her fate after joining the Infinity Circuit. If it were destroyed, she would be consumed by She Who Thirsts. She closes her eyes and waits, knowing that fighting is a futile gesture being unarmed and nearly unclothed.

"I…"

Her eyes snap open. She sees him holding his rifle by the sling in the process of placing it on the ground, holding his other hand opened facing her. He places his lasrifle on the floor, the sound painfully loud in the oppressive silence between the two.

"I'm not going to shoot you,"

Andron feels like an absolute fool, trying to speak to a xenos in Low Gothic, but it is all he can muster. He tries to assume as unthreatening a stance and tone as possible. It seems to work, if only slightly. She removes herself from the wall and stands there, looking at him. He takes another step towards her. Their eyes lock. At this instant, there are only two people in their universe. Two people, supposed to be enemies, to kill and hurt one another, but destined to be something more. What was though impossible: peace between xenos and human, is being birthed into existence between these two torn souls in a maelstrom of pointless bloodshed.

It is evident that the Mon'Kiegh does not wish to harm her, though she cannot understand why. They were so simple-minded, devoted to their God-Emperor, doing anything and everything asked of them without question or hesitation. This one was different, however. He could have shot her; _should_ have shot her, yet she was alive. The Mon'Kiegh looks nervous. It's ironic, given the fact that she is unarmed and unarmored. Doubts still linger in the back of her mind, however. She has seen the capacity that humans have for evil. He advances another step.

His heart is pounding. He feels like a damned fool, approaching a xenos with his lasrifle on the floor behind him. Still, what he is doing feels right, and he feels confident in his decision to make peace, if only this once, with what should be his enemy. He knows not if this is simply him trying to atone for the innocent lives he has taken before as part of the sledgehammer that is Imperial justice, but one thing is certain: he will bridge the gap between them both figuratively and literally. She holds her hand sheepishly on where his own heart would be, breaking eye contact and then restoring it once more. He cannot help but take note once more of how beautiful she is.

He is nearly within arm's reach. She is doubtful once again. She had never spoken to a human, or even interacted with one in any way other than killing. All she knows is that she stands a better chance here than with those outside. He holds out his hand.

Andron is approaching the end of his nerves, his mind a maelstrom of uncertainty. He has not the slightest idea what might transpire in the next minute. He realizes that this gesture is evidence of a faith even stronger than his faith in the Emperor. He has faith in good, in purity, and that is what he sees standing in front of him.

She looks at his hand. The entire world is shut out. The thunder of distant guns, the shriek of shuriken catapults miles away, and the bark of autocannon and stubber fire with the endless din of crackling lasgun shots. She swallows and takes a deep breath, holding it. She makes eye contact once more, and tentatively reaches out.

His hand begins to shake, and it takes all of his composure to keep his hand held out. The hairs on his fingers stand on end, and he feels the heat radiating from hers. The feeling of a presence on his fingertips grows stronger as the last centimeters of this millennia-old gap are closed. Their fingertips touch.

What is normally the most insignificant form of physical contact between any two Eldar, and most likely humans, feels like the most intimate act she can imagine. His fingertips are calloused and rough, his fingernails dirty. He retracts his fingers quickly with an almost inaudible gasp and moves once again to take hers. He slides his hand into further contact, their fingers running over each other.

He notes the contrast between them. His hands are gnarled, calloused, and dirty. Hers are immaculate, devoid of any imperfection, with skin smoother than anything he has ever felt before. Just like the rest of her: perfect. Their fingers begin to intertwine, the atmosphere of awkwardness finally beginning to dissipate. He looks at their hands, and then at her again, and gives a nervous huff of laughter. Her lips curve upward ever so slightly. They hold each other's hands, savoring a precious moment of total peace amidst the endless bloodletting that they have been forced to endure and partake in. There is no longer gunfire in the distance, or the thunder of Imperial guns indiscriminately hurling death into the Eldar forces and their homes. Only a young man, who has endured more horror than any should have to, who tries to atone for his sins, and a woman who, as her home burns, learns the true potential of forgiveness. It is the 41st millennium, and there is peace.


	3. Duty's Call

**Anyone else feel like listening to certain music makes their writing better? I listened to some epic sounding stuff when I wrote my college essays and they were like epic poems xD**

This human is definitely not a threat. Any lingering doubts are thrown to oblivion. This young human in front of her means her no harm, and she can feel his remorse for the actions of his comrades. They attacked with little provocation, and in fact hunted down her craftworld. As his kind razed her once beautiful home to the ground, hopefully not with too much success, he tries to make peace with her. She had sought shelter when the attack began, and was of little use to her people in her current mindset, her memories and skills that she acquired as a Howling Banshee buried deep within the recesses of her intricate mind. The only good she could do now was to ensure the survival of this Mon'Kiegh.

Their hands still coupled, Andron attempts to figure out how he should proceed. Should he try telling her his name? Should he simply leave her?

Andron's thoughts are suddenly shattered, and he is hurled back into reality. The din of war is in the streets below. He turns white, not able to process all of this information and the decisions he will have to make as a result.

His vox bead spews a tinny, distorted version of what he hears outside into his ear. _"Jarek! We need you out here now!"_

He jerks his hand back, causing her to quietly yelp.

_You still have a duty. These people are your friends. No matter what, you wouldn't leave them to die._

Andron already feels horrible, knowing what he will have to do in the next few moments.

"I'm so sorry."

Hopefully she will still be there when he returns… if he returns, but war is war, and he has an obligation to himself and his brothers to stand by their sides; that much he is still certain of. The moral and spiritual tug-of-war raging inside of his soul is risking tearing him apart. He turns to retrieve his lasrifle.

A shriek; a flash; an instant of darkness and Andron is once again able to see as the floor under him collapses from the missile that impacted the side of the building. Time slows down. He absorbs his surroundings in detail he never knew possible. The flash of a lasrifle is seen through the dust, casting a red haze and creating rays where the light is interrupted by the broken edges of the outer wall. One of his squadmates, standing as he fires his lasrifle, is shredded by a hail of monomolecular shuriken from an Eldar Guardian. The blades impact him at hypersonic speed, passing through muscle and bone with absolute ease. The front of his fatigues and body are riddled with slits, while his back erupts in a spray of blood, viscera and bone as the shuriken tumble and impact one another inside of his body, rending him from the inside out. Blood sprays from his mouth as his face turns into a mask of surprised agony. He begins his ponderous fall, joining Andron in his futile battle with gravity.

His squad leader, Mikail, is roaring as he fires his lasrifle into the advancing eldar forces. His shot strikes a charging eldar in the eye, vaporizing the ruby-like eye-gem of his helmet and burning a hole in his forehead before superheating the soldier's brain. He continues to run for another step, unaware that he is dead.

The woman is falling next to him. Her hair is beginning to flow upward from the fall. She is in utter shock, eyes wide and mouth opening to cry out. They have only fallen three feet. Andron makes literally a split second decision. He reaches out and pulls her on top of him, her body aligning with his inches over the ground. The last thing Andron sees before he impacts the floor is her angelic face, their eyes once again locked.

Andron opens his eyes. He immediately regrets doing so as they are quickly irritated by dust. He then realizes that he cannot see. He feels weight on top of him. He tries to move his arm, only to be punished with white hot pain lancing up his arm, burning even his face. He groans in pain. He only hears his own shuddering breath, the din of battle now distant. He reaches around, testing his surroundings with his left arm. There is a large piece of masonry on top of them…

"_GAK!"_

Andron feels directly on top of himself. She is there. He moves hand upwards and feels more. He shoulders are nearly at his shoulder level. He notices a faint rise and fall of pressure on his abdomen. She is breathing, although very shallowly. Her hair covers his face. As a man, and therefore at times more simple than an Ork, he takes note of her breasts pressing into his chest. In fact, their rather gratuitous size is probably sparing him a _lot_ of pain at the moment.

_Your mind wanders there even at a time like this?_

He sucks in a few breaths of air before straining with his left arm against the massive weight that lies on top of him. The block budges slightly, allowing a sliver of orange light to enter their small prison, indicating that is it nearing the night cycle on the craftworld. He is on the bottom floor of the home, in the main entrance area. The dust has cleared. It is silent.

_I must've been out for a while._

Andron struggles for ten more minutes, pausing for breath between episodes of struggling and cursing before finally he rolls the large piece of rubble off of him. She rolls with the debris. Andron's blood runs cold.

Protruding through her robe toward the outside of her abdomen and halfway up her stomach, is a jagged piece of metal. He looks down at himself to see his uniform has a large red spot on it. He feels no pain, except for his arm and the excruciating agony in his heart. He rolls onto his side, groaning with the effort, and crawls over to her.

"Oh, no. Please, no. I'm so sorry." His voice is choked, and tears threaten to flood from his eyes.

His lasrifle lay nearby, and his field medkit is still secured to his leg. He gets on his hands and knees and, grunting, stands. He stoops down and picks her up despite the pain in his likely broken arm. There is a sickening sound as he carefully removes her from the object impaling her. Looking around for shelter, her limp and barely breathing form cradled in his arms, he hooks his foot into the sling of his lasrifle and draws it across the ground with him as he shuffles over to the next dwelling.

**Okay, the next chapter is on its way, but it's taking quite a while. It's about half again as long as this one so far, but will probably run longer. Just a heads up, in the direction it's going, there's going to be some action, but I might change/remove those parts. Anyway, opinions?**

**There'll be battles, too.**


	4. Dark Pasts

**PLEASE REREAD THE WHOLE THING**

**I have made some changes that will allow for a better story later on. Also, sorry this took so long, but it was just turning out like sh*t over and over again, and I had other commitments (Skyrim) as well as school work (He's lying, it was just Skyrim) Anyway I promise this will never happen again (a still kinda crappy chapter (I hate the flashback)) and a long wait for it. Anyway, the others will follow suit at a much quicker pace, and higher quality, hopefully. R&R plz.**

Andron enters the hab directly adjacent to where he had first seen her after kicking down the door. It is similar to the other one, almost like the row-habs he has seen on the many hive worlds he fought on. He climbs the stairs and gingerly places her unconscious form on a sleeping mat. She is still bleeding profusely, and he knows that he must act quickly. He removes his knife from its sheath and reaches for her gown. He hesitates for an instant, knowing what is to come, before he cuts a large swathe of the fabric out from over her abdomen.

The wound is through-and-through, having entered through her back and pierced completely through her stomach. Fortunately, it was more toward the outskirts of her abdomen, however the bleeding could kill her. He gawks for a split second at even more of her revealed beauty. Her lithe form is exposed before him, her stomach a perfectly chiseled work of art even with the large wound desecrating its perfection. At a second glance, he notices a small scar running horizontally roughly opposite the newer wound, more toward her hip.

Andron begins to breathe again and sets to work. He is unsure whether or not human and eldar anatomy are the same, but he hopes so. He cannot do much except staunch the bleeding which he does using an ancient coagulant that has been in use with the Imperial Guard for Emperor-knows how long. He uses all of the gauze in his kit, more than is probably necessary, and tightly wraps the wound. There is nothing more he can do, so he closes up his kit, picks up his lasrifle, and moves to secure the area.

Looking out of the second-floor window, he only now notices the carnage that had taken place in the streets. Broken bodies, both human and eldar, are strewn across the area. He sees several of his squadmates lying dead in the streets below. He wishes he could have helped them, but there was nothing he could have done.

_Right?_

Andron's stomach growls. He realizes that he has not eaten in nearly 20 hours. Searching himself for his rations, he finds nothing, and turns to search the bodies in below him; a deed he is going to hate. He quietly climbs down the stairs, lasrifle held at the ready, and enters the street. He searches the nearest body, finding only a mostly-full canteen of water. He also takes a frag grenade and extra power cells for his lasrifle. Searching the other bodies, he finds several rations and enough water to last for a couple of days. He returns to the hab.

After placing his "spoils" of war on the floor next to the mat, he checks on her again. He realizes that they do not even know each other's names. He holds his two fingers against her neck, realizing again that there may very well not be a pulse there due to anatomical differences. He chuckles slightly as he finds one. Thanking the Emperor that the night cycle had only just begun, Andron eats one of the rations as he recounts the day's beyond extraordinary events. Never would he have thought he'd be in this position, sheltering a xenos woman in the middle of a conflict between his and her species. He lies on the mat next to her on her uninjured side so as to not disturb it. He lies on his back, listening to her breathing. Over the next half hour, her breaths become less shallow, and he feels confident that she will recover swiftly. A smile on his face, and feeling more at ease than he had in the past several years, he welcomes the oblivion of the greatest kind of sleep.

His eyes snap open and his eyes jerk to the left to see her screaming. He rolls over and quickly tries to calm her, attempting to place a hand over her mouth to quiet her scream which could alert the enemy (who was the enemy now?) to their position. She continues to cry out, although she is muffled by his hand over her mouth. She makes an effort to sit up, struggling against his insistence for her to remain lying down and yelps as her wound flares in pain. Her eyes search the room frantically, looking for an escape route or a weapon that she could use, before they fall upon his face.

She freezes.

She is astonished to see the man she thought only existed in a dream holding her. She feels his grip relax on her shoulder, and he removes his hand from her mouth. She pants as the events of the past few hours flood back into her mind.

_The fall… I remember…_

She looks down to see a bandage over the area from where the pain came.

_He saved my life._

As he sees her visibly relax, he smiles. What happens next, he never could have expected. She wraps her arms around his neck, and pulls him into a tight embrace. His eyes widen in surprise and he gasps, his arms held up in surprise before he tentatively returns the gesture. Her arms wrapped around his neck and crossed over his back, his chin resting on her shoulder, he is reminded of when they first touched, except the sensation is exponentially stronger. The cold of the night is instantly banished by the warmth of her body, and Andron holds her tighter. His arms wrap around her lithe form, and they savor each other's embrace. In this now war-torn world filled with dead and dying, they have once again found an oasis of peace.

He feels her shaking as she is overcome with emotion. He remembers that eldar are notorious for their excessive emotions, but given the events of the past hours, he does not feel they are unjustified, and only wants to comfort her. As a man who spent most of his life killing and perfecting his art of war, he is not exactly the best around when it comes to comforting a soul in need of it. The only thing he can think to do is to return her embrace. He rubs her back with his good arm, relying completely on experiences he remembered from the earliest years of his life.

"Thank you."

Andron is frozen in shock.

"Wh-, what?"

"You saved my life," she says, holding him tighter still.

"But… how can you speak Gothic?"

She laughs, the sound intoxicating.

"My people are not nearly as… closed-minded… as yours. I learned Gothic nearly a century ago when I was a child. It wasn't necessary, but could have proven useful…" She looks at him and smiles, "has, proven useful."

Andron smiles.

"You never told me your name."

"My name is Aureleth."

Her voice flows like water; smooth and with grace. It is soft, yet beneath it is strength and nobility.

"I am Andron Jarek," His eyes fall to the floor, "I am also a heretic and most likely stranded behind enemy lines… though the line between friend and foe is quickly becoming distorted for me."

She bites her lip, thinking, before returning her gaze to him.

"Why did you spare me, Andron?"

Andron looks into her eyes. He can see their emerald green color more clearly now, and is once again nearly lost. He is somewhat shocked by the question which he, in the back of his mind, knew to be inevitable, but regains his composure somewhat. He recounts the moment when he first saw her. He does not know for sure, though he can be certain of one factor that contributed to his decision. He breaks eye contact and sits there, scanning her as he thinks. To think that the Imperium would call her a scourge, a blight, a blemish on its holy destiny to conquer the stars disgusted him. He had known her, not even knowing her name for a few mere hours and he already knew that he would trust her, sacrifice for her, and protect her more than anyone or anything else the Imperium had to offer. It didn't need him. And he didn't need it. He only needed her, the one thing in his grim and dark life that gave him true comfort and purpose.

"I…"

His entire life in the Guard floods into his mind, everything he has seen and done in the name of the Emperor coming back to haunt him.

—_Auraxis, 4 years prior—_

_They cower against the wall. Andron stands there, looking at them, rifle pointed towards them. The hive had been corrupted by Chaos, and everything had to die, even those that Andron very well knew in the back of his mind had not been tainted._

_This is the last hab on the last block in the hive. An entire family is before him. A mother and her children huddled together. The children whimper, and tears stream down their mother's face. The children fear what will happen next, but their mother knows what will happen next._

"Do, _it,"_

_Andron's hands shake. He cannot disobey his Commissar, even if he knows what he is doing is senseless slaughter. He would die, and then they would die, possibly at the hands of the man with the flamer standing next to him. _

"_B-"_

_He feels cold metal pressed against his neck, a circular imprint the size of his eye socket. He has no choice._

"_They will not be missed. This is for the survival of us as a whole,"_

_He will not be given another chance. He has seen this man execute countless Guardsmen practically on a whim. His lasrifle is on full auto mode. He shuts his eyes, grits his teeth…_

Andron completely loses his composure at reliving what he considered to be the most horrific moment of his life. Every night for years afterwards he saw their faces, and he sees them again. The faces fade away, and he sees the angelic woman sitting in front of him again. Tears leave trails in the thin layer of grime covering his face, starting clear, and turning colored with dirt the farther they go; a perfect metaphor for his life. A man of only twenty-two, Andron has seen more horror in his life than any member of the Imperium short of a Space Marine. He is only human, and what he has done is too much for him to handle.

She can feel his sorrow. As a member of a race that is almost telepathic by nature, she nearly shares his memory. Understanding completely now, she rests her hand on his shoulder in comfort. He looks at her, sorrow and remorse pouring from his face.

"I've done horrible things. I've killed so many, including too many that did not deserve death," his voice is strained and choked, "I did it in the name of," he waves his arm around, indicating the devastated city, "this. I destroyed so that we could continue to destroy. They would have killed you without hesitation. I couldn't. I saw you, and you were just… you're just…"

She places a hand on his shoulder, calming him.

"I was what? I honestly see no good reason for you to have spared me. In fact, I was resigned to my death. In hindsight I should scold myself for doing so, given my past, but those old instincts, talents, and memories are hard to bring to the forefront of one's mind on such short notice."

Andron looks confused. "I was going to say 'innocent', but I have a suspicion I was wrong, given your mentioning of 'your past'."

She laughs, the sound much darker, and leans back. It unsettles him. "That is _definitely_ an incorrect judgment. We eldar live our lives on paths, which we change numerous times throughout our lives. I currently trod the path of the Artisan or, more simply, I am an artist. I became so to lose myself in a less… morbid, way of life."

"You were… a soldier?" Andron very well knows the incredible deadliness of an eldar warrior, and despite her outward acceptance of him, he still feels fear begin to creep into his gut.

"A Howling Banshee, to be precise."

—_Auraxis, 154 years prior—_

_They had been traveling in the Ultimum Segmentus sector, when a splinter fleet of Chaos ships intercepted them. It was small, and they were able to fight it back to this budding human colony, and decided to give chase and wipe it out completely. The Chaos bastards were becoming desparate, now attempting to summon a deamon on the planet's very surface. The resulting Warp rift could grow into any unimaginable horror, and had to be stopped. In the middle of this small hive the Chaos forces made their stand, harvesting the locals to sacrifice as part of their sick ritual. _

_The power sword plunges into his stomach and through his vital organs before erupting in a spray of boiling blood out of his back. The last thing he sees is her drawing the power sword, hissing as his blood is vaporized from its surface enveloped in a power field, being drawn out of his torso. _

_Aureleth pivots on her foot, bringing her sword in a whistling arc through the neck of a cultist and then from the shoulder to the waist of another. Their bodies crumple to the ground as she raises her shuriken pistol and sends a hail of the projectiles into a traitor marine as he raises his fist. The blades punch through his ceramite armor before tumbling about inside his body, causing massive internal damage. She knows this alone will not stop him, however, and quickly dives out of the path of a thunderous punch that impacts a wounded cultist next to her, utterly crushing his skull as the fist continues its path of destruction. She comes in low, with her sword aimed at his stomach, and lunges forward as she thrusts her sword forward, taking advantage of his lost balance. The blade passes through his armor with little resistance and she wrenches it out as she passes him. Now back-to-back, she turns the sword toward the ground, both hands on the hilt, and plunges it into his back at an upward angle. The abomination falls._

_They had been traveling in the Ultimum Segmentus sector, when a splinter fleet of Chaos ships intercepted them. It was small, and they were able to fight it back to this budding human colony, and decided to give chase and wipe it out completely. The Chaos bastards were becoming desparate, now attempting to summon a deamon on the planet's very surface. The resulting Warp rift could grow into any unimaginable horror, and had to be stopped. In the middle of this small hive the Chaos forces make their stand, harvesting the locals to sacrifice as part of their sick ritual. _

"_Keep fighting! We are almost there! Once we break through from behind, the Guardians and Dire Avengers will be able to assault their shrine." Aureleth's exarch is several meters ahead of her, fighting with blinding speed and finesse, killing as naturally as she breathed. After several minutes more of intense fighting, they make a breach in the Chaos lines along the perimeter of the square in which the Warp rift is to be conjured. Swooping Hawks soar overhead, dropping plasma grenades that detonate among the Chaos forces in searing clouds of superheated plasma, vaporizing those in the immediate area while melting the armor and flesh of those nearby. From her right, Dire Avengers explodethrough a building on the outside of the square, shuriken fire immediately whipping from their position and shredding numerous foes. To her left, a Dark Reaper fires his cannon, missiles shooting from his weapon on pillars of flame, spiraling around each other in the air before impacting a Chaos Predator tank. It erupts in a ball of fire, shrapnel exploding in all directions. A piece sings by Aureleth before impacting the ground, removing a fist-size chunk from the stone. _

_She activates her psycho-emitters and charges with the rest of her squad into the fray. The Warp rift is widening, and she risks a glance directly at it, immediately feeling her head begin to throb and her eyes burn from the pure insanity that is leaking into the world from beyond. The Chaos cultists in front of her grab at their ears, blood beginning to leak from them as well as their eyes as her psychic scream ravages even their corrupted bodies and minds. She hits them with a fury that rivals that of even the Chaos Marines fighting them, hacking and slashing her way through the throng of cultists. She leaves a trail of death and blood in her wake, dismembered, eviscerated, and decapitated bodies the only indication of her passing through the area. Her squadmates follow suit as they lay into the southern flank of the enemy. _

_Aureleth hears her exarch cry out with increasing urgency. "The rift is widening! If we do not hurry, the Warp will pour forth into this world. If we fail here, we will not be able to stop them from getting to the craftworld."_

_From the East, a Wave Serpent fires its shuriken cannons, the large blades slamming into the Chaos ranks, eviscerating and dismembering cultists, before embedding themselves into the armor of the more heavily armored marines behind them. _

_Half a mile away, a phalanx of Nightspinners aim their Doomweavers high into the air. They fire, the mesh of monofilament wire whickering almost inaudibly in a long, ponderous arc over to their target. _

_Aureleth is charging toward the center of the square, her scream deafening the cultists around her, causing them to clasp their hands to their ears and writhe in agony. She is within yards of the nearest group when they are shredded into thin slices of meat, bone, and viscera. The only indication of the mesh falling upon her foe was a whisper drowned out by the din of war. When it impacted, however, the effects were very noticeable. Aureleth skids to a halt and watches in grim satisfaction as her foe is rendered into cross-sections, each neatly falling to the ground slightly out of alignment with the next, skidding across the ground like a stack of cards thrown absentmindedly onto a table._

_Their opportunity has presented itself. They charge with increased fury and overtake the enemy. The portal is closed, but there is little hope for the planet being completely free of taint. A gateway to the warp being open that long on a planet will have consequences. The farseers had already predicted that they would need to return to this world to ensure complete destruction of the Chaos taint. They were not yet certain why, but it was inevitable. They would return to Auraxis._


	5. Torn Apart

Even though he has saved this woman, and even though he knew that she was not hostile to him, at least not now, Andron feels icy fear course through his blood. He stares at her, eyes wide. His jaw moves but words do not come out. The Imperial part of him, ever present still, was once again rearing its head. She laughs again, this time with much more mirth.

"Despite what you might think, I am not going to rip your throat out with my teeth."

Andron chuckles, slightly less frightened, but the unease still lingers.

"I have no idea what to do…"

"You made a moral decision. You broke away from the rigid and utterly nonnegotiable terms and laws of your faith. You thought for yourself. The only thing you can do with that, Andron, is live with it. I am in your debt, and I want you to know that I will be forever grateful that you chose to not kill me where I stood."

"What have you done?"

The question catches her off guard. "What do you mean?"

"That you regret… what have you done?" He shuts his eyes, but he can still hear them die…

She gives a small, melancholy laugh.

"It was not long a—"

The sound of a door being kicked down interrupts her mid-sentence. Andron jumps up, and helps her stand.

Three voices call out, sounding far away as they travel up the stairway and into the upper floor.

"Room clear!"

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

A pit of ceramite forms in Andron's stomach. "Oh, gak,"

He turns to her, but she already knows what is happening.

"You have to leave, _now_," he hisses.

She clasps his hands. "It's been an honor, Andron, however this was not meant to be. We are both warriors in the end, destined to fight, and destined to die. You are beginning your journey down this dark path, and I am being called upon once again to tread it in defence of my home. I wish it did not end this way, but we can do nothing to change our fates."

They share another silent moment together, Andron utterly enchanted by her, and she feeling a small attachment beginning to bud in her heart, though interrupted by this sudden turn of events.

She makes her way toward a window. Andron holds onto her hand as long as he can, before it slides out of his own. She looks back at him, a sad smile on her face before turning away and leaping toward the next hab, pulling herself into its blown out second floor before continuing out of sight. As she disappears, he feels a large part of his soul leave with her. He continues to stare at the elegantly curved hab, his subconscious comparing it with the blocky, industrial, and ugly Imperial habs. Boots pound up the staircase behind him before three shafts of light lance across the room onto his back.

"Name! Now!"

"Andron Jarek, 34th Kallidian,"

"Where's the rest of your unit?"

"You walked over them out there," He nods toward the street.

He grunts his understanding, "You're a long way from the fight. Come on." They turn to leave.

Andron stoops down and picks up his lasrifle and supplies. Next to his rifle is the piece of fabric he had cut from her robes. On the bed lies a tiny figurine of an eldar woman crying. It is crafted from a dark crystalline material. He does not know who it is. He picks them up and places them in his breast pocket.

"So what the gak happened?"

"What do you mean?"

The Guardsman, Korlin, was baffled. "'What do you mean?' How did you end up there you dumbass?"

"Oh." He quickly creates an amended story to tell the Guardsman. "I was with my squad clearing a hab when they were attacked. I moved to support them, but a missile hit a wall a few feet from me, and I woke up a few hours later. They were dead, so I moved to where you found me."

"Huh."

The chimera bucked slightly as it passed over a crater. Andron rocked with it and the other Guardsmen sitting inside, their faces lit by the dim red glow cast from the glow globe in the armored wall.

"Where are we headed now?"

"Back to the fight, boy," A large man, his face bearing several scars and covered mostly by a large beard, sits across from him. "We're gonna kill these bastards."

A chorus of barks and whoops follow his declaration. Andron can't help but feel somewhat at home again despite his recent experience. Aureleth was right. They are both warriors, destined to fight and die. Why try to control something he knows he cannot? He is just one man among trillions. He is among fellow humans, and despite his new outlook on his situation, he is a soldier at heart, sworn to protect his brothers under any circumstances. Whether that is not a conflicted feeling, however, is another matter entirely.

Her side flares in pain once again as she leaps another gap onto a hab. She rolls out of her jump, dissipating all of her energy before she continued onto the next. The Eldar lines are coreward, and she can feel their presence growing stronger. Soon, she will be among her own people, fighting for her home against one of the greatest threats they could possibly face. The humans might be short-lived and primitive (for the most part, as she recently found out), but they are by no means harmless. This fight will be bloody and vicious. It may very well end in the destruction of their craftworld. Aureleth will do everything in her power to ensure that that does not happen, however they were being pushed back. Slowly; inevitably; Yul'Te was being lost.

Aureleth reaches the Eldar lines in the Dome of Falling Skies. A huge plain expands across the dome, lined on either side by phalanxes of trees. Both factions have made their battlements within the edges of the treelines. Aureleth had managed to avoid any Imperial forces and, despite her injury, make her way to her people on foot. She approaches an Eldar Swooping Hawk as he waits with his Aspect Shrine members. Her clothing is torn and dirtied in addition to the swathe already missing from it. He freezes in the middle of assessing his gear and addresses her with the blood red eye gems in his helmet.

"Blood of Khaine, what happened to you?"

"It is of no importance. I am here to fight." She straightens her posture, assuming as imposing a figure as possible in her tired state. He gives her a once-over, and huffs his amusement at her request.

"You wouldn't last a moment out there in your state. These Imperials are giving us an extremely—" The shriek of an Eldar artillery piece cuts him off mid-sentence as it fires a white hot ball of plasma that arcs into the sky before falling out of sight. "An extremely tough fight," he finishes.

"I was a Howling Banshee once. I think I can handle myself." He stiffens slightly at her mention of previous military experience, feeling slightly embarrassed at eating his words.

"Very well, then. Our command is housed over there," He indicates an elegantly crafted temporary building toward the rear of the lines. "Good luck. It appears my time has come," He follows his Shrine mates as they depart for battle.

"The Eldar are giving us fragging hell in the cities. They fight at their best in close quarters, and they also have the advantage of knowing the city layout better than we do." Commissar Joakarn (pronounced yo-ah-karn) Broden stood in the middle of the Chimera, holding the rail that ran across the ceiling for balance. He gestured with his bolt pistol for emphasis, the men's eyes following it in a nearly entranced state. How many of them would die at the barrel of it before the day is over? Andron heard from the others that Joakarn was not the worst of Commissars in terms of "discipline", but he was certainly not the best. Andron was told to just follow their lead and he would be fine. Once again, he was but an atom in a tiny cog of an immense war machine.

The convoy thunders through yet another large city in the seemingly endless craftworld, making its way to further reinforce Imperial presence in the area, and push the Eldar further coreward. Andron sits with his lasrifle between his legs, hands gripping the barrel. He rests his head against the bulkhead, his mind wandering. It was one of the most fleeting, yet _the_ most influential and important moment of his life. His entire perception of the universe shattered; his faith brought into question as he realizes was rightfully so. Threats far greater than the Eldar face humanity, and all sentient life in the galaxy. The foul powers of Chaos; the dreaded Tyranids, or the barbaric Orks were far more of a universal and severe threat than the Eldar. Despite these facts, he sits in a Chimera headed toward back into an Eldar city, being called to battle once again. He surely would see it differently this time. What if it is… her?

The sun shines a bright blue through the immense windows on the dome above, casting vivid shadows and beams of light through the smoke columns now corrupting the air. Aureleth rubs her side, still feeling painful soreness despite the medical attention she had received. Her mesh armor glints in the sunlight, and she carries a shuriken pistol and chainsword, as per the loadout of an ex-Howling Banshee turned Storm Guardian. She is to be sent to Elanthranil, one of the more Imperial controlled cities on the craftworld. She has not fought for several years, and her skills have surely dulled. She only hopes that she can fight with fury close to what she used to.

She boards a Wave Serpent with other members of her squad, and waits to deploy. The distant booming or Imperial artillery can be heard.

"How long has it been since you last fought?" Another eldar warrior addresses her. She is probably around Aureleth's age at a young 190 years or so.

"Long enough for my skills to dull. I hope I can remember quickly," She inspects her chainsword absentmindedly. "I last fought in the Second Battle of Auraxis."

The other soldier grunted. "Only within the past few cycles have I not seen combat as well. I guess we can both see how our skills withstand the test of time."

"Indeed we shall,"

An eldar wearing more ornate armor followed by enough warriors to fill the back of the Wave Serpent enter the troop bay.

"It is time," He takes his place toward the front of the bay. The others follow suit, and as the door closes, the last of the natural sunlight being extinguished, Aureleth wonders if she will see Andron.

**Okay, I know these things are short and whatnot, but that just seemed like a good place to end the chapter. I'll start on the next one now. Also, I've been doing some reading on which tenses are more effective to use, and I am torn still, between whether or not I should use past or present tense. I might try writing the next chapter, or some others in past tense if you guys don't like the flow of it currently. PLEASE DO TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL ON THIS ISSUE. It will make the story a lot better for all of us if we all like the way it flows, and what I like is influenced by what you like, so please I'd like your input.**

**The next chapter I just realized is forming in the past tense, so I'll finish it in the past and see how it is. If you don't like it, I'll go back to present. Also, certain critics have made mention of some canonical issues regarding my guardsman being too inexperienced, and the command hierarchy that I have portrayed being incorrect. Any opinions on that? I'll keep it as canon as possible, but I'm not going to be a Nazi about it.**

**Also, I feel responsibilities regarding this story mounting. It seems like I'm getting a good deal of followers, here... Well, challenge accepted :P**


	6. Paths Intertwine

**At over 5000 words, this one is by far my longest :D This is in the past tense, and after writing it, I feel that I can go into more detail into the two of them. It also sounds more professional. I dunno, present always sounded sort of odd to me, even though I nearly default to it :P I'd still like your input, but I really enjoyed having this in the past tense, and I may very well keep it that way.**

**I HAVE CHANGED A KEY PLOT ELEMENT TOWARD THE END. PLEASE REREAD THE LAST 1/3 OF THE CHAPTER. Sorry I didn't think of this earlier, as it's a MUCH better way to progress the story. To those of you who have yet to read this chapter, just read the whole thing. To those of you who HAVE read it, sorry that you'll miss out on the added immersion that this little change incorporates regarding the point. There's more reader-character synchronization in terms of knowledge of events.**

An impenetrable haze blanketed the ground up to their waists, and visibility was poor. Andron could see no more than fifty yards ahead of him through the thick smoke. His squad was packed tight, eyes and lasrifles scanning the rooftops and habs, their spires and curved facades creating a truly alien landscape. They had donned their rebreather masks, their faces covered as a precaution, and to avoid the haze from having too much of an impact on their eyes. All that could be heard was the endless ringing in their ears, their pulses pounding in their heads, and the insidious far-off din of war. Their boots scuffed the ground in an erratic pattern as they moved toward the city center. Andron scanned back and forth, wary of any movement ahead.

The street was wide, nearly twenty yards, lined on both sides by alien trees and floating globes that emitted a soft light. Behind the trees and lights were the buildings; what appeared to be habs with elegantly curving facades and spires, and storefronts.

The piece of cloth protruded slightly from his pocket, and he brought his left hand from the handguard of his lasrifle, pinching the silken fabric between his fingers before continuing on.

They'd been walking for hours at a snail's pace, partly due to the haze, and also out of caution. They were Guardsmen, but they weren't foolish. Where caution was warranted, it would be used. Andron could see the other men creeping forward with raised rifles and stable postures. Anything caught out in the open would be slaughtered by a phalanx of lasfire. The entire situation, however, screamed of an impending ambush. Better to carefully tread into one, however, than blindly sprint into one.

"Stay sharp. These bastards are elusive," Andron's new squad leader, a man of forty, was one of the most physically imposing men in the squad despite his age.

"I'd like to see them face us hea—"The soldier was cut short as he and the rest of the squad saw it at the same time.

A figure reared up from behind a small wall in the haze. Andron's blood surged, his stomach tightened into a knot, and he squeezed the trigger on his lasrifle as a mind-bogglingly fast strobe of light emanated from the figure, heralding a storm of shuriken that sang across the fifty yards in nearly an instant before ripping into their ranks. Fatigues, bone, and flesh alike were shredded like wet paper, men falling to the ground with bodies utterly eviscerated by thousands of tiny blades.

The remaining men took firing positions on their knees, and lasfire lanced from the line toward the Eldar warrior, who then returned to cover, yielding to a hail of fire from his comrades on the rooftops. More men fell to the onslaught, and all the rest could do is present as small a target as they can while maintaining as heavy fire as possible on the roofs. Andron scooted on one knee toward a tree planted on the edge of the street, his shots going wild, but contributing to their response nonetheless. With more solid cover, he was able to fire more precisely, bracing himself against the tree.

He squeezed the trigger three times, each initiating the sharp crack of superheated air expanding around the lasbolt as it instantly impacted its target. The Eldar he was aiming at jerked three times before falling limp over the edge of the roof and onto the street twenty feet below, clean holes punched into the armor in his neck and shoulder.

Joakarn roared as he fired his bolt pistol, paying no heed to the shuriken whistling past him, several tearing tiny holes in his coat. The pistol barked in his hands, hurling mass reactive bolts toward the enemy. A bolt impacted an Eldar on top of one of the habs, before detonating in a spray of blood, bone, and armor fragments a split second later. The warrior fell limp, slumping out of sight.

Shuriken stitched a path toward Andron's position, and he ducked behind the tree as it began withering away under the assault of saw blades it was put up against. He had to move, and fast. He opened his comm to the squad.

"I need help over here! Someone get a bead on him!"

Numerous responses, all negative, came in return.

Pieces of the tree continued to fly in all directions as it continued to erode. He had mere seconds left.

A ball of fire left a trail of smoke as it screamed down the street into one of the buildings. It detonated with a deafening roar, and all of the Eldar above the impact were sent falling to the ground below if they were not vaporized in the impact to begin with. The fire slackened on Andron's position, and he made his way back to more solid cover behind the stone fountain and other stronger structures around which his squad mates took shelter.

A soft purple glow filled the cabin of the Wave Serpent, and Aureleth sat secured in one of the seats in the troop cabin as it soared towards Thalmadren. The city elegantly speared up into the Dome of Soaring Dreams, the heartland of Yul'te's culture. Pillars of smoke were slowly beginning to rise from the city, marring its beauty with signs of war. They would be hot-dropped in to an engagement taking place currently in the city, providing support to a force that was taking considerable losses. They would arrive in fifteen minutes. She passes the time remembering the cause of the war she was entangled in.

* * *

><p>—<em>Auraxis, 4 years prior<em>—

_They were destined to return, and return they had. Chaos had resurged on the planet, and with even more power than before. It would have to be beat down once again, even if that meant crossing paths with the Imperials. Slaanesh could not be allowed into reality, regardless of the cost. The city lied in ruins. Shortly before they made to leave, the Imperials had arrived, and they were now locked in a battle to escape before they were wiped out by the far larger force. Their cruiser was currently avoiding the Imperial fleet as it waited for the moment to scoop up the ground forces and make a hasty retreat. The ground forces had sustained heavy casualties, and were now making their way to an extraction point where they would be picked up by transports and whisked away to the cruiser in orbit. It had to be timed perfectly, and anyone who missed the extraction had little hope of survival, as risking a second pass on the area would be suicide._

_Aureleth sprinted through the ruins of a bombed out building, dust and debris reducing visibility inside of it to less than twenty feet. Her squad had been nearly wiped out by Space Marines, her exarch killed and only one other squad member remaining, her friend since childhood, Erheil, remained. She and Aureleth made their way through the ruins, weary and battered from their previous engagement from which they had barely escaped with their lives. The sounds of war reverberated eerily through the halls. Explosions, gunfire, the shriek of shuriken and screams all indicated the intensity of the fighting going on outside. Aureleth and Erheil were side by side, bounding toward their only hope of escape. _

_And explosion rocked the building, and they stumble through a doorway into a lobby. They stood face to face with a squad of Guardsmen. Aureleth regained her balance, charging forward, Erheil following suit. The Guardsmen in a state of minor panic the sudden appearance of the dangerous enemy that they faced, opened fire, most of their shots going wide. Lasfire lanced past them, and they could hear the guttural barks of their squad leader has he fired his rifle. They were upon them in seconds._

_Aureleth positioned herself in their midst, and swung a wide arc with her power sword, cleaving a soldier in two, following through with her momentum to bring it down through the shoulder of another Guardsman, the blade hissing out of his thigh. She activated her psychoemitter, and the men immediately around her fell to the ground, their ears and eyes bleeding and roaring in agony. She dispatched them with curt bursts from her shuriken pistol, their bodies falling lifeless. _

_Erheil pulled her sword from the stomach of a soldier as she let off a burst toward another with her pistol. She pivoted around, her sword raised and ready to strike again. A loud blast rang out and Erheil froze. Looking down, the front of her armor was shredded, that being the exit wound from the shotgun blast to her back. She fell to her knee, her vision blurring, and leaned on her sword for support. She turned and, using the last ounce of life left in her body, took the life of the man who had killed her, eviscerating him with a full three second burst from her pistol._

_A scream emanated from Aureleth's helmet, however it was not her psychoemitter. She continued to scream in rage and pain as she killed everything around her. She became a whirlwind of blade and shuriken, and all those unfortunate enough to be caught in her reach were gutted, dismembered, or decapitated. She had been trained to control herself, to not lose herself in Khaine's grasp, but she was on the verge of losing control. She cleaves a man in two, before a sharp blow to the back of her head from a large man wielding his lasrifle like a bat made her vision flash white, and she stumbled. As she fell forward, she aimed her pistol behind her and fired, catching the man in the side of the face. She turned to fall on her back, aiming more carefully and shredding his skull in a hail of projectiles before jumping to her feet once again. She was still slightly dazed from the hit, and was unable to react as a grenade from a launcher impacted feet away from her. Her armor absorbed the shrapnel, and deflected the rest, however the force of the blast sent her careening into a wall. She looked up and realized that only one man remained. He was young, even for a human, and wielded the hefty weapon in shaking hands, frozen in fear as he stared down the warrior that had singlehandedly slain his entire squad, and who he had to face alone._

_She staggered up, her body flaring in pain from the concussive blast earlier inflicted, and she quickly closed the distance to the man, coming too close for him to use his launcher without killing both of them. He quickly dropped his weapon, reaching for his lasrifle, and barely dodged a drunken swing from the dazed warrior. As she pivoted back, he thrust out, releasing a cry of alarm at his death being a split second away. The bayonet on his lasrifle pierced her armor on the left side of her abdomen, slightly above her hip. She yelled out in pain, and her sword slipped from her grasp. She lashed out with her hand, the armored backside of it connecting with his cloaked face, sending him spinning to the ground. She stumbled forward, holding her stomach with her right hand, and her shuriken pistol with her left. She turned around to see the man holding a broken lasrifle, the object nearest to him, like a club. He charged toward her, yelling in a combination of a battle cry and one of fear. She raised her pistol to fire, but he brought his rifle down, smacking it from her hand and sending it skittering across the floor. He reeled back, and swung a second time. She ducked below the blow and brought her elbow up into his stomach. He huffed, and she could feel a rib crack under the blow._

_He had fought valiantly for someone who was so obviously afraid for his life, however he would not leave this place alive, she thought to herself as she drew back, ready to strike again. There was no need, however, as he fell to the ground clutching his stomach. She stood shakily, holding the bleeding wound in her side, towering over the young man who sat on the ground, staring up at her. She imagined how he must have felt, seeing nothing but a mask in a constant howl of rage. He had a look of sad resignation in his eyes. It was different from the endless blind defiance she had always seen in most of the men she had slain. She turned and retrieved her weapons from across the room, confident that the man would not be able to stand, before making her way to her fallen friend. She knelt down at her side, and bowed her head deeply. They had decided to walk the Path of the Warrior together, as they had done everything in the past that way. They had been inseparable. Now, her best friend lay dead, killed by a filthy Mon'Kiegh. She lifted Erheil's helmeted head, and pressed hers against it before gingerly laying her back down again and taking her soulstone._

_Meanwhile, the wounded man watched._

_She returned to him. He had scooted and rested himself against a wall, clearly resigned to his fate; clearly suffering in anticipation of his death still, however. Aureleth stared at him again. She could see the sad resignation and a hint of fear in his eyes even in the darkness, even with most of his face hidden behind the cloth mask he had made to filter the dust in the air. He stared at her, eyes conveying everything his face could not. He was defeated, and he felt his death was for naught. Those eyes had seen too much, the man had done too much, and was hesitantly and sadly beginning to accept his fate. She could see everything about him just by looking at his eyes, not only as a result of the Eldar's nature, but he was peculiar. She had never seen that look in a human before. He wondered if he made a difference, if his suffering, his sacrifice, would do anything to postpone the universal inevitability of extinction. He was a wise human. He was a human._

_She raised her pistol._

_As she pulled the trigger, two rooms over a Space Marine drop pod blasted through the roof and impacted with earth shattering force, sending her shots tracing a line up the wall above the young soldier's head. Heavy footsteps heralded their arrival and, knowing that she would stand no chance against such a foe, she staggered as quickly as she could toward the extraction point._

_The Imperials saw the Eldar retreating from Auraxis as they came to liberate it. The only logical explanation was that Eldar and Chaos had attacked the planet simultaneously. Seeing as the Chaos threat was dealt with by the noble men and women of the PDF, only to be usurped by the devious Eldar, they took pursuit shortly after cleansing the planet of any remaining taint._

* * *

><p>"Five minutes! We are being dropped in five minutes!"<p>

The warrior next to Aureleth was anxious to get into battle. "These fools will pay for desecrating our world with their filthy existence!"

"In due time. For now, make sure your equipment is functioning, and prepare yourselves. They will not go down easily."

They flew toward where the battle is taking place, the sound of war slowly beginning to reach the Wave Serpent and the others in the squadron following it.

Rounds whistled past Andron as he hunkered down after firing another burst of shots. Several of the men around him were wounded or dead, but there were still at least forty Guardsmen left in response to the Eldar ambush, which was considerably smaller, and an underestimate on their part. A troop transport swooped overhead before landing slightly behind the Eldar line down the street and taking off again after disgorging its cargo under the cover of a building.

"You!" Joakarn shouted as he pointed toward Andron and his squad. "Take the right flank and intercept the new troops that they are sending us. Try to cut them off before they can get here, or else we're dead men," He ducked quickly as a round impacted slightly above his head before standing again and resuming his firing and yelling.

"You heard him, move out!" Andron followed as they moved into the buildings to their right and began to make their way forward.

Shuriken chased them as they broke cover, however they all made it to the cover of the buildings unscathed. They began to make their way forward through the smoke and dust choked halls of the small buildings. Andron advanced, his rifle trained on the area in front of him, as did the rest of the men with him. Flashlights pierced the dust, creating cylinders of light that moved around the rooms they moved through. They appeared to be in some kind of a shop, with various trinkets and items of unknown use on shelves and tables. Andron bumped into a table by accident, sending a small statue falling to the ground, shattering. The cylinders all jerked and frantically searched abut for the source of the noise before falling on Andron.

"Emperor's blood! I think I need to change my pants!" One of the men joked, drawing a few chuckles from the others as they continued to keep watch for any danger. They resumed their advance.

Andron looked down at the broken statue. He touched the small figurine in his breast pocket.

Three Eldar warriors moved through the shops. Their squad had split up, one section taking the right flank, and the other taking the left. Dust made seeing anything farther than fifteen feet away nearly impossible. They moved swiftly and silently, chainswords and shuriken pistols held at the ready. Outside, the din of war penetrated through the walls, and eerily echoed throughout. They had not come across any hostiles yet, but she had a feeling that that would soon change. A small crash and frantic shuffling echoed down the hall, followed by a human voice. The leader of the group looked to her squad mates, and they nodded.

"Contact! Oh, Gak! Fire, fire!" The man dropped to a knee and let off a long burst with his lasrifle on full auto as the Banshees broke into the shop in what was easily the closest fight of any of their lives. Lasfire lanced from their position, burning and destroying all it touched, and immediately one of the Eldar was staggered as she took a glancing shot to the leg. The continued on, however, and within a split second were upon the Guardsmen. All at once, centuries of combat experience clashed, most of it contained within the three Eldar warriors, though they had to recall it as they went. The Guardsmen were fresh from the battlefield, and were thus in their element. One of the Eldar leaped over a table and drove her whirring chainsword into the neck of a soldier, wrenching it out and decapitating him. She raised her pistol to fire, and her sword to swing, however she was cut down by a flurry of lasbolts from all angles. She squeezed the trigger on her pistol and sprayed in the direction of the Guardsmen, wounding several of them before she collapsed and died.

The second warrior slid beneath a table, his whirring chainsword held out to the side. It took the legs off of furniture and human alike, and both fell to the ground, one spilling trinkets, the other blood. He dug his boot into the ground, vaulting into the air maintaining his momentum and sweeping his sword in front of him, hacking the head and arm off of two Guardsmen. He slid on the ground and fired his pistol into the back of another soldier who fell in silence. He stood and rushed back into the maelstrom. Blood slicked the floors as he clove apart another human. There were only six of them left now. The other Eldar warrior dispatched two more with blade and pistol before receiving a staggering blow to the head from a brute of a man, who raised his rifle to strike again. She whipped around and gutted him with a slash to the stomach, and he fell into a pile of his own viscera. He sighted his pistol on another man, but as he made to pull the trigger, a lasbolt burned into the side of his head. He toppled to the ground, his shuriken pistol firing wildly.

Only one Eldar remained against the three humans. An Eldar still walking the Path of the Warrior would have absolutely no trouble dispatching these men, however these warriors had not fought in years, and were therefore less effective in battle. Still, she would not die easily, if at all. She fired her pistol into the nearest man that raised his rifle, before a second man behind her landed a thunderous blow on her back. She stumbled forward twisting and catching his jaw with her elbow as she fell. She lifted her leg, catching him between his, and lifted it, causing him to fall forward onto her raised chainsword which impaled him, and he died with a sickening gurgle. Only one of them was left.

* * *

><p>All fell silent, except for the battle still raging outside, muffled somewhat by the walls. He raised his rifle, breathing heavily. The Eldar warrior stood up, and turned to him slowly, menacingly, holding her pistol and chainsword at the ready. He would most likely not make it out of this one, he thought. He steeled himself, flexing his grip on his rifle as he always did when he was nervous. She coiled back, ready to lunge at him at any instant. It was her or him, so Andron pulled the trigger on his lasrifle.<p>

It whined slightly before going completely inactive. His eyes widened in horror as he saw her begin to move toward him when a stray lasbolt punched through the window behind her and impacted a few feet away. Andron seized the opportunity and lunged at her, roaring.

He hit her hard, and they slammed into the wall. Her weapons fell from her hands, and they were both left unarmed. She lifted her legs and kicked out, planting herself on the wall, and Andron was hurled back off his feet. She ran forward, fist raised for a blow to his face. Andron lashed out with his feet, however she flowed around them, barely breaking stride before bringing her fist down to his face. He jerked his head to the side an instant before she landed a hit that would have knocked him unconscious onto the floor, and swung with his right arm, his fist impacting her helmet. She grunted, and he brought up his knee, hitting her in the stomach. The wind knocked out of her, he was able to wrestle himself on top, and landed three good blows into her helmeted head before she smashed her head into his, the rubber mask no match for the composite mesh of her helmet. He was staggered back off of her, and she got to her feet.

The human was fighting quite impressively, she thought as she fought to suppress the throbbing in her head from the punches she had endured. She would be victorious, however. No mere human could best her in hand-to-hand combat, even if her skills had dulled over the time she had spent away from the Path of the Warrior. The lens on his mask was cracked, his face obscured by the tinted glass. That would surely end the fight, she thought. She lunged forward, as did the human, and that impacted once again. She threw a high punch, cracking the lens further, and he landed a left hook into her side as her left arm had been guarding her face. Within arm's reach, he grabbed her and brought his knee up into her stomach. She huffed out the air in her lungs from the force of the blow, but still was able to bring her right elbow into the human's face, taking advantage of him pulling her in and using the momentum.

The glass shield of his rebreather mask caved in and the human stumbled back, the glass falling from its slot in the mask. His eyes were exposed, squinted in reflex to avoid glass fragments from entering his eyes. With both of her palms, she delivered a sharp, powerful blow to his chest, and he was knocked from his feet and spun to land on his stomach. She could hear him gasping for air, his diaphragm experiencing spasms from the force of the blow. She turned and retrieved her weapons before somewhat unsteadily walking back to face him. He had rolled onto his back, and propped himself up laying back on his elbow, still attempting to get up.

She stood half way across the room from him, pistol and chainsword held limply at her sides. He continued to struggle, attempting to stand once again. A few seconds later, his efforts ceased, and he scooted up against the wall a foot behind him and looked at her, waiting.

* * *

><p>—<em>Aureleth stared at him again. She could see the sad resignation and a hint of fear in his eyes even in the darkness, even with most of his face hidden behind the cloth mask he had made to filter the dust in the air. He stared at her, eyes conveying everything his face could not. He was defeated, and he felt his death was for naught. Those eyes had seen too much, the man had done too much, and was hesitantly and sadly beginning to accept his fate. She could see everything about him just by looking at his eyes, not only as a result of the Eldar's nature, but he was peculiar. She had never seen that look in a human before. He wondered if he made a difference, if his suffering, his sacrifice, would do anything to postpone the universal inevitability of extinction.<em> —

* * *

><p>She looked at him as he sat, staring at her, blinking the sweat from his eyes. His chest heaved occasionally, his eyes squinting from the pain of his injuries. She almost felt pity for him. He looked so defeated, so... resigned, as if he thought his death was f— She looked at his hand. He was holding—<p>

It couldn't be…

* * *

><p>Andron clutched the only things he felt had any worth to him anymore. He still had no idea who the woman was depicted as the tiny figurine Aureleth had left, but it brought him peace as he held it. She certainly couldn't have been evil. Maybe he would find himself with her, for nobody knew truly where people went when they died. The silken fabric, an odd memento, he knew, was intertwined in his fingers. She was the only truly good thing he could remember. He had joined the Guard to escape his home and the misery it harbored, and that only entailed worse suffering for the Emperor. Now he lay awaiting his death calmly. Hopefully he would see her one day.<p>

Fate had greater intentions for them, she knew that now. Fate had brought them here again, alone, away from the violence, the carnage. They were meant to be together. Though for reasons yet unknown, even with one beginning to emerge in her whirlwind of thoughts, they were meant to be. She looked more closely at his hand, and saw the figurine as well. The little trinket she had left him as thanks, and a piece of her clothing, were what he clung to as he awaited death. Humans had families, friends, comrades… there were trillions of them, yet he chose to remember her. A reason for their encounter, the reason fate brought them together again, was becoming slightly more concrete. She had never felt anything of the sort in her life, though. To think that it would be a human to coax these emotions out of her was embarrassing, but she cared little for that. Being so long lived, the Eldar develop these feelings slowly, if at all, yet this human had brought them to surface. She sheathed her weapons.

The warrior stood, her weapons sheathed, and he watched as her hands moved to her helmet. She clasped the helmet between her hands, and lifted it off. Andron could not believe his eyes. Was he dead? He did not remember the warrior killing him, then again why should he? His throat tightened as she slowly walked toward him, and he clutched the figurine and cloth as tightly as he could for fear that they were all that kept the vision alive. He could barely breathe in his mask, the heat and sweat stifling. She knelt at his side, and he was once again enthralled by her as she looked into his eyes through the mask. He began to weep, overwhelmed by his emotions. He had another chance. He was able to see her again, a beacon of light in a universe of pain and darkness. She reached out and gently placed her hands on his mask. She slowly lifted it off, careful to not injure his face any further. The mask came off completely, and Andron felt the cool air on his sweaty and battered features.

She reached out, and gingerly brushed away a lock of dark hair that was plastered to his forehead, hanging into his eye. Her hand brushed up against a cut on his forehead, likely inflicted by her, and he winced slightly in pain. She pulled her hand back, but he took hold of it. She froze, and they stared at each other. He reached up with his other hand, the cloth and figurine now resting at his side, and returned her favor, moving a long strand of light golden hair from her face. Aureleth had never experienced any semblance of intimacy whatsoever before, and was therefore unsettled, despite being a warrior a century and a half Andron's senior. She gave a small, nervous smile, and was caught completely off guard when he pulled her into a tight embrace. She stiffened before awkwardly returning it, noting how different it felt than the first time. There was something else there, taking shape slowly, but gaining more form as time went on.


	7. Realization

Andron stared at her for several more seconds before coming back to reality.

"I… almost killed you." He felt horrible, guilt wracking his soul.

"And I nearly killed you," she responded somewhat more matter-of-factly.

"I forgive you."

"As do I." She sat next to him against the wall. "Are you badly hurt?"

Andron's face was sore, as were his ribs, stomach, and just about every part of his body.

"I don't think so," he answered hesitantly. He made to get up, before crying out and falling against the wall, white hot pain shooting up his spine from his ribs. Aureleth gasped and reached out, once again slightly surprising herself with how much she cared for him. He leaned his head back, "I think you broke a rib…"

Aureleth didn't know what to do. She was torn between helping this man who meant surprisingly much to her, and her own people. She decided after some thought, however, that she would help who she could the most right at that moment.

"We need to get somewhere safe,"

"Okay, but I'll need your help. Here," He held up his left arm, opposite his broken rib, for her to take. She took his arm and brought herself under his arm, and in turn placed hers over his shoulder. Their faces a scant few inches from each other, they shared an awkward smile before making their way to the back of the storefront, Aureleth supporting Andron as they picked their way over the bodies strewn across the floor.

They exited from the rear of the building, into yet another street that led to more elegantly constructed habs, many of which were now bombed out or destroyed. The "sun" was beginning to descend down from its apex, heralding the evening, and it would be dark in several hours. They walked for nearly a mile, getting as far from the battle as they could to find some place to seek shelter, picking their way through small amount of rubble. Andron had taken off his pack and it was then tied to his waist, dragging his rations, weapon, and other supplies behind him. He grunted in pain every other step, the strain on his broken rib beginning to severely wear down on his stamina. It took them nearly an hour and a half between the obstacles and their condition.

Aureleth could feel him getting weaker, and knew that they would have to find someplace soon. "Not much further, I see a place where we can take shelter."

Andron moaned half seriously "It's too far, gak you hit me hard." He chuckled at his own joke, but was quickly punished for doing so in the form of a stab of pain in his side. He decided it would be better to walk on in silence, and he did just that until they arrived at their destination.

It was similar to the others, being part of a city, with a curved façade, spires, and no corners. "This one looks good," Andron scrutinized the dwelling.

"Wait here." Aureleth let him sink to the ground and set his pack up behind him for him to lean on, which he did while he waited for her. She drew her pistol and chainsword and moved up beside the door. Weapons raised, the turned the corner and disappeared into the house.

Andron heard her clear the house in a time that would put just about any Guardsman to shame. A matter of seconds later, she calmly returned to retrieve her fallen friend. Andron held out his hand, which she took, and she helped him inside. They moved to the upper floor after closing the door, where she laid Andron down on one of the sleeping mats. Andron was pleased to know that they were comfortable, for it was the first soft surface he had laid against since he first met her, and it had been weeks since before then.

"Take off your tunic."

Andron stammered like an idiot. "W-what?"

"Your tunic. I need you to take it off. I can't see what injuries you might have through your clothes. It will be difficult enough given the fact that we are not even members of the same species."

"Okay." He felt uncomfortable

He sat up, and after removing his equipment webbing and flak vest, took off his tunic. He was a man of above-average physical fitness, though not quite a hulking bear of a man like many Guardsmen were. Aureleth sat and stared for a few seconds longer than was normal, and Andron coughed, and then winced in pain, to regain her attention. She was visibly embarrassed. "Right. Lie on your back," she instructed as she opened up and examined the contents of his medical kit. They might be two different races, but they were close enough that Aureleth could infer the purpose of the supplies contained within. There was not too terribly much that she could do, but she set to work anyway, identifying the source of the injury.

"Tell me if this hurts," she reached out before her hand stopped a hair's breadth from his skin. She glanced toward his face to find him looking right back at her. She quickly looked away, as did Andron, before she began to press on his ribcage, going from the top down.

Her hands were soft, her delicate fingers gently glided on his chest for a split second before she pressed down, probing for pain. "Nothing," he indicated, to which she moved her hands, without lifting them, downward, and pressed again. "It's lower, I think."

"Here?" She applied pressure.

"I don't th—" Andron barked in pain. "Yeah, there," he said through gritted teeth. "Here, take those bandages and tape, and apply them along the broken one,"

"Like this?" Aureleth was not trained to be a medic, so had little experience in the field of field medicine. She followed his guidance, until his side was appropriately bandaged, helping to ease pressure, stress, and pain in the area.

"I feel better already," Andron smiled. "Thanks for your help. I believe it's the least you owed me given the reason for the injury," he added with a smirk.

She laughs, but winces slightly, causing Andron's smile to disappear.

"I didn't hurt you, did I? It sure didn't seem like it,"

"No, it is from where we first met. It still hurts when I put forth any kind of physical effort. You could have stood and done nothing during that engagement and I would have still been in agony,"

Andron was genuinely concerned. "Would you like me to take a look at it again, and make sure it's healing properly?"

It was Aureleth's turn to feel unsettled, the thought of exposing herself having an entirely new connotation and different implications suddenly. "I… suppose that would be a good idea." She reached down, and hesitantly began to remove her armor, starting with her greaves. Underneath the mesh armor she wore a skin-tight suit to allow for mobility. She cursed the engineers behind the ancient piece of military hardware for not allowing the undersuit to be opened without destroying it unless all pieces of the armor were removed. Then again, she thought, they most likely didn't consider her current situation as a possibility. She felt foolish for being so nervous over a non-issue, but that feeling of… she did not know what it was, still lingered. All that remained was the torso section, and she hesitated at the last seal before, with a deep breath, removing the last piece of armor.

Around her neck, hanging between her breasts, was an amulet. It almost seemed to glow faintly. Andron sat and gawked, the suit literally reflecting every detail of her figure, and to an even larger degree than her translucent gown had. She squirmed almost imperceptibly under his gaze, and he continued to stare for several more seconds before coming back to reality. He then instructed her to lay on the mat next to where he sat.

"Ummm… how do I…" Andron did not know what the suit's purpose was.

"Oh, here." She reached down and indicated a small tab on the undersuit. "Just pull."

He noticed that she seemed to tense up a small degree as he pulled the tab downward, the suit splitting open similar to a zipper but with no teeth, behind the tab. She quickly but gently moved the amulet out of the way of his touch. The reason for her tensing up became evident as he progressed. She was bare underneath. Andron coughed in surprise, his eyes going wide before pulling his hand away. Much of her cleavage was exposed, and it took more willpower than a Space Marine for him to avert his eyes. "Throne of Terra," he muttered under his breath. He searched around and found a covering for the bed, before laying it over her chest. "Here. You could have warned me, you know,"

"Oh." Had it been lighter, he would have seen her face was bright red. "I did not think that… Seeing as we are from—"

"Some rules apply everywhere," he smiled. He continued to undo the seal on the suit, exposing her flat stomach, lightly rising and falling with each breath she took. It appeared that his dressing still remained. "You did not have this changed?"

"I wanted to go to battle immediately. This would have delayed me."

"Eager to kill me, I see?"

"What? No, I—"

"It was joke, Aureleth." He smiled warmly.

She knew that, and was unsure why she became so defensive over the mock accusation. She then wondered if she actually was unsure, or if she was running from a truth nearly taken shape inside of her. He used her name…

"Here, let me undo these," He reached toward the bandages.

The instant she felt his touch on her bare stomach, she was jolted by an electrifying sensation radiating from the point of contact and spreading through her body. She gasped softly, and Andron looked at her.

"I hope it's not that painful, it should at least be less than when we last saw each other,"

"No, I'm… I'm fine," She broke eye contact and began to nibble on her lower lip.

He found an end, and began to unwind it. The bandage came to a point where it went under her back.

"Here, could you lift your back slightly?" She obliged, and he reached under, feeding the growing ball of dressing under, then leaning parallel to her to allow his arms to meet under her back and pass the bundle. He, in an odd mannerism that almost all humans share, kept his eyes locked on some random point ahead of him, and his head raised as he worked behind her, his hands out of sight. He felt a slight tickle on his neck, and looked down. It had been her breath, and they were now face to face, he on top of her, staring into each other's eyes.

Her mind was a maelstrom of emotions, and she as almost on the verge of losing her composure. What would happen when she did, she did not know. She felt so strange, and had no idea what the feelings were. It was all so new. She was both invigorated and slightly frightened. She might have been one of the most effective killers in the galaxy, but her training only went so far. Some things, she was meant to discover on her own, and there were no paths for.

Time seemed to drag on as they gazed into each other's eyes. Her hair was spread out about the mat under her head, making a golden-white backdrop for her angelic features. Her emerald eyes softly glinted in what little light there was, and he could almost see himself in them. He swallowed hard. His arms were growing tired from propping himself up at an awkward angle, and he hastily began unwrapping the bandages, breaking eye contact.

Aureleth realized that she had been holding her breath, and let it out slowly. She peered into her soul, picking her way through the storm of emotions as he worked on the bandages, trying to understand. Each of her memories, her emotions, appeared as a star in a black void, coalescing into the galaxy of memories and feelings that was her. One star shined brightly. She reached out toward it, drawn by its insistence to be seen. Her hand neared it, but it floated away, beckoning her to follow. She obliged, trailing it through her other memories. They separated in front of her, allowing her to pass freely in pursuit of the one memory that was dragging her in. They went deeper and deeper into the galaxy, fleeting images and snippets of memories giving way to more important moments in her life. Her initiation as a Howling Banshee drifted by, and she saw herself standing with the other recruits, donning their armor for the first time.

She drifted closer and closer to the deepest parts of her soul, nearing the very center, her memories becoming more and more vivid. She passed the moments that affected her most, that shaped her into who she was, before reaching the center. The core of her being glowed brightly, a white glowing, tightly bound conglomerate of the most important experiences of her life, and the emotions, thoughts and feelings that made her who she was. The orb stopped next to a star toward the outside of the center, newly added to the most important parts of her being. It glowed softly, but increased with intensity as she drew nearer, becoming almost blinding. The one she had followed rested itself in front of her, and she reached out and touched it. A memory.

_The fall… He saved me. Aureleth had seen her craftworld in flames as the Imperials attacked, indiscriminately killing everything that was not human. Her friends, her family, everybody she knew were dead. This one man, however, spared her and even saved her. She was overcome with a combination of grief and joy, and gives in to the torrent of emotions welling inside of her. She feels his hand on her back. It is more comforting than anything she can remember._

The other star was blinding now. She squinted, trying to find the epicenter in the glare. She was able to make out a white spot brighter than the rest of the light flooding her eyes, and wrapped her fingers around it. The light flooded through her fingers, her body was jolted again with that strange feeling she was about to discover fully. The pieces came together.

She loved him.

**Okay, so now that that's out of the way, (a milestone in the storyline/relationship), what do I do next? Should I make things... you know... .com/watch?v=BxuCeHUxoBY**

**If so, I would do it within the next 2 chapters, or maybe incorporate it into a later chapter to keep you guys wanting to read :P**


	8. Love Can Bloom

**Any drawfags (endearing term) willing to draw Aureleth/Andron/both for me? I looked on deviant art for some people and found 21****st**** century DaVincis, but they charged 100 bucks for a portrait, and that ain't worth it for me, lol. I don't have money to give, but you would have my eternal gratitude for even a decent sketch or something. I'm not asking a ton, just a decent piece of art, you know? Aaaaaanyway, here's numero 8. By the way, there will be action. Of both kinds. One will come soon, and the other will come later.**

**Anyone else have a notebook where they write plot ideas? And do you bury your documents deep within the bowels of your computer? My friends/family would probably be weirded the hell out if they saw a romance novel about a space elf and an Imperial Guardsman on my comp. Anyway, I ramble. Here goes.**

"Are you okay?" Andron glanced up at her as he finished unwinding the dressing.

"What?"

"You looked… detached. Here, you can lie down again."

"Oh, I'm fine," She lied down flat.

Andron examined the wound. It looked to be healing well, but it would be a good deal of time before it was completely healed, and would most likely leave a scar. There was another, smaller scar running horizontally toward the left side of her abdomen. It looked to be a stab wound.

"It doesn't look too bad. A few weeks and it should be completely healed. I'll just clean it and wrap you back up, okay?"

"Okay," She stole a glance at him as he worked before turning her gaze back towards the ceiling.

Andron removed a few antiseptic cloths from his medipack, the last of his medical supplies, and laid it beside her. He gently padded the area around the wound, careful not to cause her pain. He touched a sensitive area, however, and she let out a tiny whimper, which tugged his heartstrings even though he knew that she could easily handle worse.

"Alright. This should keep clean and safe for a while. I'll need to get more supplies somewhere along the way..." Andron trailed off, realizing that he had not the faintest idea where, exactly, that "way" was going to take them. He was in love with an Eldar, and a soldier of the Imperium, easily the most xenophobic civilization to ever exist as far as he knew. They were on a war-torn craftworld with fighting all around them, and what were they going to do? It's not like they could escape… He found himself staring blankly, and resumed tending to her. He finished cleaning the injury, and searched through his pack to find a clean roll of field dressings. He unraveled a few inches, and held it above the injury on her stomach. "This might hurt a little,"

She clenched her teeth slightly, preparing for an unknown amount of pain. "Okay."

Andron responded by pressing down as lightly as he could while still maintaining enough to have the dressing stay in place, and she hissed slightly. "Sorry, sorry. Here, get up," He placed his hand under her back and helped lift her into an arch again. He leaned forward and reached under her once more to feed the dressing through under her back from hand to hand. He was in the same position as last time, and as he wrapped her up under the suit, he could feel her skin as his arms brushed against her sides. He kept looking straight down, however, wanting to avoid another situation like the last. He couldn't help but get lost in her gaze every time they made eye contact, and feared offending her if he were to be too… forward.

Aureleth thought as she felt his hands work over and under her body, about if, how, and when she would tell him how she felt. He certainly seemed kind and caring, she thought. But did he feel the way she did? His hands felt soothing. She was pulled back into reality by his voice.

"Okay, all better, for now at least. I'll have to find more supplies later, however. I used up the last of it here."

Aureleth lay down flat again, though Andron still leaned over her, making sure the wrap was secure. Her eyes wandered, and fell upon his chest, where she saw a small piece of fabric protruding from it, and a small bulge.

* * *

><p>–<em>She could not believe her eyes. Out of his hand protruded a flowing piece of silken fabric. The same as from the gown she wore that day. She looked more closely at his hand, and saw the figurine as well. The little trinket she had left him as thanks, and a piece of her clothing, were what he clung to as he awaited death. Humans had families, friends, comrades… there were trillions of them, yet he chose to remember her.<em> –

* * *

><p>Andron felt a touch on his breast pocket, and looked down to see Aureleth with her hand over his heart, her fingers intertwined with the piece of her gown he had taken as she stared at it. He placed his hand over hers, and her eyes quickly jumped from her hand to his own before meeting his gaze. Between his eyes and hers was her elegant form in a skin-tight, half-undone suit, her large breasts barely covered by the blanket he had given her, which had nearly fallen off as she arched her back to assist him. She squeezed his hand, and smiled. He wasn't sure where the sudden display of affection came from, but he was certainly happy to have it. He smiled back at her, and they remained that way for several seconds.<p>

"We should, you know, close that back up," He indicated her suit.

"Right," She moved her hands to cover herself with the blanket more.

Andron pinched the small tab toward her waist, and began to pull upward, sealing away her beauty once again. He carefully moved past the bandages, being sure that they would not obstruct his progress, and continued upward. He stopped when he saw her hands creep into his field of view as he followed the tab. She covered herself with her hands and a blanket.

"Uhhhh," his voice wavered slightly.

She felt completely safe around him. She felt as if she could trust him completely, with anything. She already virtually knew that she could place her life in his hands with confidence that he would do everything in his power to keep her alive. She had never trusted anyone so utterly before, not even members of her Shrine. She loved him, and was nearly certain that he loved her, if his behavior was anything to judge by. She took his hand with her own, her other keeping the blanket in place over her breasts, and pulled upwards with him. A surprised look crossed his face, and he audibly gulped as his hand passed over her breasts while she softly, quietly, exhaled. Aureleth was akin to a teenager, just beginning to discover her sexuality. She had spent her life devoting herself to studies, art, or the art of war. She had had no time for such things, nor did it ever cross her mind. Now, however, all of these feelings, emotions… and other things among them, were flooding into her. The suit closed completely, and they were left face to face again.

She had to love him. There was no other reason for her to do what she did, he thought, his mind in turmoil trying to think of what he should do. "Here, let's sit you up," he leaned back before pulling his hand back towards his chest, and she came up with it.

Aureleth knew that she loved him, but it was all happening so quickly, and she wasn't even sure that he felt the same way. She needed time to think, to understand. She had never rushed blindly into anything in her life, and love, as far as she knew, was no exception. Aureleth reconsidered that, however, as they held each other's gaze. Humans were able to form relationships in months, and she had even heard once or twice of it happening instantly. She wondered if that was what happened to Andron. There was no other explanation she could think of for him to act the way he had. There was no reason for her to be so cautious. Besides… how long would they last? She would make a compromise, she decided.

As they drew closer together, a mutual feeling grew between them. It was not yet love, for neither was certain of the other's feelings. However it was beginning to materialize, slowly intertwining their souls, beginning to pull them together.

He pulled her instead straight towards him, and she obliged, not making any effort to change her course. His hand came completely to his chest, over his heart and the mementos he had of her, and all that remained separating them was a small amount of slack in her own arm. It was up to her. She was somewhat frightened, as this was easily the strangest thing she had ever done. She had slain thousands, but nothing could compare in its effect on her soul to what she was experiencing at that moment. She began to close the last of the gap between them. She began to have second thoughts, however, as the final few inches were crossed. She was overcome with a deluge of emotions; fear, nervousness, happiness, what she now knew was love. She squinted her eyes shut, and began to angle her face away, for fear of some unknown, terrible ramification if she were to go through with it. There actually were potentially horrendous consequences if she were to lose herself in lust. Her people knew that all too well.

He saw that she was afraid. It was quite obvious, and he understood. Despite being part of one of the most brutal fighting forces in the galaxy, he had compassion, he could understand. Most would consider that weakness, but he had always cherished what little he had. He didn't want to frighten her, or see her distressed. He lifted up his hand, and placed it on the left side of her face, gently cupping her cheek. She stopped, and opened her eyes, tears welling at their edges. It wrenched his heart immensely to see. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, as he did her hand that was still locked with his own. She visibly calmed as he smiled warmly. A tear fell from her eye, hanging on her face before he gently swept it away with his thumb. He drew her in, this time as gently as he could, as if any sudden movement would shatter her fragile resolve in the situation, and she closed her eyes again, though with much less vigor, before he angled his head and softly kissed her cheek, just next to her lips. Her soft skin felt warm against his lips. He wanted nothing more than to do it forever, to leave the hideous world they were stuck in.

She drew a slow, quivering breath before looking up at him. He peered into her depthless green eyes, shining ever so softly in the moonlight entering the room. Aureleth's body had been wracked with a feeling she had never experienced before. Her mind felt blank, and her entire being became that one spot where his kiss touched her. She did not know how humans expressed love, and for all she knew that could have been but a small gesture. She dearly hoped, however, that it was not a fleeting moment of connection. She wanted something more, and she wanted it more than she could ever remember desiring anything. He positioned her so that she was sitting adjacent to him, and they sat in quiet contemplation without a word for a short time.

"You never answered my question, I just remembered," Andron's voice broke the silence.

"What do you mean?"

"In the hab, before the other Guardsmen kicked down the door and you had to leave,"

"Ah, yes,"

"So, the question remains the same. What do you regret?" He shifted his legs, so that one lay flat while the other was bent to support his arm, making himself more comfortable.

She sighed, searching her soul. Being an Eldar, she was able to quickly do so, and in an instant, nestled within the core of her being, she found an orb that beckoned her. She took hold of it, and was back on Auraxis.

"I killed someone,"

Andron shot her a confused look. "That much is obvious. I saw you kill six people a few hours ago,"

"No. I meant… I shouldn't have. I bested him in combat, but there was something about him. I don't know… I knew in the back of my mind that I would be doing a horrible thing if I killed this man, but I was lost in bloodlust and rage. I had just seen my lifelong friend die right before me, and wiped out an entire squad of your kind. I couldn't stop," She was looking somewhere beyond reality, in the past. Andron could see it in her eyes. Like so many Guardsmen he had seen, and himself at times, she was reliving a dark moment of her life, and it was playing out right before her eyes.

Andron leaned back, his hands resting on his knees, facing her. "Well if it makes you feel any better, I've had that happen many times. But it was killing my own kind. The Imperium is like a wildfire in the way it purges evil. The evil is exterminated, but so is everything around it. I knew it was wrong, immoral, monstrous, but it was," he air quoted and Aureleth smiled inwardly at the strange little mannerism, "what needed to be done. It's horrible, the things I've seen, _done_. How long ago was this?"

"Only four or so of your years. It was on a human planet. They called it Auraxis,"

* * *

><p>Andron's head slowly rose up, a blank stare on his face.<p>

"He nearly killed me. I remember being thrown off my feet from his weapon, and standing again to see him there, shaking with fear but still he stood his ground,"

—_She stood. That should have killed her, he thought… the launcher was out of ammunition. —_

"I leaped up and ran at him. I was going to tear him limb from limb. I was trained to not lose myself during combat; to always stay composed, but I failed to that day,"

—_Panic. He searched for a weapon, a rock, anything. She would be on him in a split second. He almost forgot his lasrifle was slung on his back. He quickly fumbled it into his hands.—_

"It cost me, too. He stabbed me in the stomach, and I nearly died from blood loss before I made it back to my brethren,"

—_He cried out in alarm and thrust his lasrifle forward, praying to the God Emperor that he would strike true. He felt the rifle stop suddenly as its bayonet was embedded to the hilt in the warrior's abdomen. —_

—_Her lithe form was exposed before him, her stomach a perfectly chiseled work of art even with the large wound desecrating its perfection. At a second glance, he noticed a small scar running horizontally roughly opposite the newer wound, more toward her hip.__ —_

"We had a short skirmish, as I said and when I beat him, I retrieved my weapons, paid my final respects to my beloved friend, and made my way back to him. He had rested himself up against a wall, and he stared at me," She sighed. "The look in his eyes was… different, from the blind defiance that most humans hold even to their final breath. He looked as if he could see through the blind faith that had been indoctrinated in him, as if he could see the world objectively and not through the lens of fervent religious belief. I saw through his eyes, wisdom that I had never before seen in a man,"

Andron was at a loss. He had no idea what to think. He just sat there, frozen; his mind utterly seized trying to wrap itself around the significance of what he was hearing. He saw her, the entire experience coming back to life before his eyes. He saw her bend down over her fallen friend, touch her helmeted forehead against the fallen one, and remembered that as the first time he ever felt anything significant for a xenos that was not resentment or hatred. That moment changed him forever, and now in a way he could never have possibly fathomed. It seemed impossible, but he simply knew. It was her.

— _Andron knew he was going to die. He also knew it would most likely be in combat. It was not a matter of if, but when, and from what. He knew the answer. Death came in the form of a single Eldar warrior, gripped with grief over the loss of what he assumed was a lifelong friend, given her unusual reaction. He felt sadness. His fear that should have been there at the sight of imminent death was eclipsed by sadness instead of steely resolve. All of the fighting and suffering, death and destruction were for what? Had he made a difference? Probably not, and he knew that. He had been forced to commit horrible atrocities, having just finished murdering an entire family because it was his "Sacred duty". He wanted to die. He no longer cared for the hideous world he was trapped in. He stared back at her as she stared at him, and waited. —_

She continued, "It was a shame. I wish I could have done what you have for me, in hindsight. Only the Gods know how the world might have been different had I let that one enlightened soul survive. I killed him, though. Caught in a mindless bloodlust, I killed an unarmed man who would have made the world around him a much better place. I think about it often, even though it was part of my training to leave my memories of battle behind; for this very reason. I left the Path of the Warrior shortly thereafter in private shame. I had crossed the boundary of judgment and into the realm of unnecessary killing. I could not allow myself to continue. Out of the thousands I have killed, he is the only one that haunts me…" She let out a long sigh, casting a forlorn look onto the mat below her. She stared at her feet over her knees for several more seconds before turning her eyes to him. She was perplexed to find him staring right through her, off into space. She was even more confused when she saw the unwarranted mask of resignation and pain he was wearing.

—_She could see the sad resignation and a hint of fear in his eyes even in the darkness, even with most of his face hidden behind the cloth mask he had made to filter the dust in the air. He was defeated, and he felt his death was for naught. Those eyes had seen too much, the man had done too much, and was hesitantly and sadly beginning to accept his fate. —_

"No," the faintly muttered word brought her back to reality.

"What?"

He looked directly at her. "You didn't,"

Aureleth's breath caught in her throat. It was impossible. There was simply no way. She killed him, pulled the trigger herself. How could that man have possibly survived? But his eyes. She remembers little with more clarity than that man's eyes, and the two that she stared into, she realized, were the same that belonged to that saddened, enlightened Guardsman that she had killed years before.

"B-but I—"

"Missed," He said in a disconnected manner, most of his mind still back in a broken building facing death.

She was overcome. The man she loved was the man she had thought she killed. What did it mean? Even a Farseer couldn't have predicted something as incredible as that. Their paths in life were truly intertwined, and more tightly than she had ever imagined. Tears began to stream down her face.

"How?" She choked out.

"The Space Marines. As soon as you fired, they landed. It threw your aim off enough to miss…" He let out a bewildered chuckle.

"But I killed… you!" She hated herself. This further cemented so many feelings and thoughts while eliciting others. He had spared her after she had essentially done the exact opposite. The barbaric human spared the life of the Eldar who, for all intents and purposes, killed him. She didn't know what to think. She simply sat weeping, overcome with the torrent of emotions she was feeling; incredibly strong even by Eldar standards. Love, pain, joy, anger, and self-loathing all collided and formed a white-hot maelstrom in her soul. She did not notice him lean back against the wall next to her.

Andron placed his arm over her shoulders. He knew he should probably be at a loss, though he somehow maintained his composure in the face of such an incredulous turn of events. She trembled, and he felt so torn apart inside to see her the way she was, and though her knees had already been drawn to her chest when she sat, it created an even more saddening sight. He leaned over and whispered into her ear "I forgive you." She kept her head down.

"How could you?"

Andron knew exactly why. Had he discovered who she was a day before he still would have known why. The words escaped his mouth before he could think any further.

"I—I love you," He froze. The moment had come. It would be right then when he would find out if his hopes were merely foolish fantasies, or if out of the ashes of war and death, something beautiful could be born. It had been hinted to up until then. Small gestures, looks, feelings; however the phrase Andron had uttered would be the true crux of their relationship. He got his answer.

Aureleth looked up at him, tears trickling down her face. He did love her. She had already admitted her love for him, and despite the initial emotional distance she had put between him and herself, had felt from shortly after the beginning her love for him beginning to overtake her. Now, he had confirmed and made real her greatest hopes. She was filled with a cascade of emotion, and wept more still. She felt his arm around her shoulders, and turned, wrapping her arms around his neck, resting her head against his and his shoulder. She squeezed him tightly.

"I love you, too."

**:3**

**So there it is. I'm sure you saw that one coming, but I'm not the dude who wrote "The 6th Sense", so get off my back :P Anyway, we're back on our way to action (the killing kind), then we'll do something else. I have no idea what's going to happen as I've said I am just going with the flow. I've written well over a hundred papers for school using this method, and it has yet to fail me, so how bad can it be? Besides, plot twists are just as shocking to me as they are to you. Oh, and I wrote part of this as I was on autopilot to a target in a flight sim. I almost hit 2 mountains... and a house. You know, I've noticed that there isn't too much interaction between most of the authors here and the readers, and I kind of wish we could all hop in a chatroom and do a Q&A or something. I like talking to people, and it kinda sucks that there's just this delayed response between us with author's notes and PM's. Oh, and sorry this one took so long. Had schoolwork and writing a LOT of in-depth feelings is tough. I'm done writing for the night. Off to... do whatever. I'll definitely get another one out before my winter break's over, so don't you worry. I also have no idea how close to done I am. This could be half way or 1% of the **

** Dog slammed the door open, scared the piss out of me.**


	9. The Embrace of a Lover

**WARNING: CONTAINS ****HERESY**** **ADULT CONTENT. ****

******Don't worry, I was tasteful, though.**

Andron sat stunned for a few seconds, before wrapping both his arms around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. He felt her shake a few times as her body and soul tried to restore equilibrium after this new realization shattered her world, though for the better. He sat holding her, as he did not know what else to do in his situation. He only felt a burning desire to be by her side. There was nowhere else he would have preferred to be. For the first time in his life, he felt, he was truly happy. Even though they were in the middle of an alien warzone, he was beyond content. Andron had only had a girlfriend for a short time before joining the Guard, and as far as he knew love was something that was, up until now, completely unknown to Aureleth. Neither being quite sure what to do, they sat contently, passing what little peaceful time they would have together. Far off in the distance, the rumble of Imperial guns provided an eerily soothing backdrop. He ran his fingers through her hair, to which she inhaled deeply before pulling back and looking him in the eyes. She smiled, filling his battered soul with light before they pulled each other again into a tight embrace.

* * *

><p>Aureleth had never before felt what she was feeling in his arms. She felt a kind of warm serenity that she never knew possible. In him she found an escape from the hell on which they both were trapped. She had felt rage, blind fury, and battle lust as a warrior; pride, a spark of creativity, and satisfaction as an artist, but none of those experiences came close to evoking the kind of tidal wave of emotion she was experiencing from one man. She felt connected with him, as if their souls were intertwining between their physical bodies.<p>

"What does this mean?" She asked.

"What does what mean?" He was confused.

"This… us… it's so… impossible. For us to have crossed paths years ago, for me to have essentially killed you, only for you to survive by some stroke of insane luck; then for us to meet again, here, on a distant world, and my home nonetheless. Why?"

_Andron thought. He had no idea what it meant. He was a man of faith, but according to his faith, only the most hideous powers in the universe could have made for a fate like his. That couldn't possibly be, however. What they had was not evil. In fact it was the very opposite: an island of light in an endless sea of blackened death and hatred. The chances were still too slim for it to be simply coincidence, though. "Does it matter?"_

She smiled. "We see a reason in everything, though I cannot think of one right now for you and me. I suppose it will come to light at the proper time, though."

It occurred to Andron that he had nearly killed her as well, and that the wound he had seen adjacent to her fresh one was one he inflicted. A pang of guilt shot through him as the realization that he had nearly killed what he now held so dear dawned upon him, causing him to pull her in tight, her bosom pressing against his chest. Her reaction was a small gasp, a mannerism he had loved the first time he heard it.

"I'm sorry, too,"

"What have you to be sorry about?"

"I tried to kill you, too."

A flash of a man thrusting out with his rifle fills her vision, causing her to unconsciously wince. She shifted back, breaking the embrace, before her hand traveled down to where the scar lay.

Inside of Andron, as he reflected upon the fact that he had nearly killed her twice, as she had to him, yet they had fallen in love despite the entire galaxy working towards the contrary, he came to a resolution.

"I won't let anything happen to you. Ever," He placed his hand over hers on her stomach. "I don't want to see you hurt… I'd give my life for you," He looked into her eyes.

Aureleth had only heard that from members of her Aspect Shrine. The only people that would have given their lives for her were those with whom she was bound in blood and battle. Yet Andron would give his for her… she wondered, was that the power of love? She felt so strange. Though she knew what it was, she still could not fully understand what was going on within her body and soul. She was taken aback by his vow. It was the most sincere thing she had ever heard someone say. There was not an ounce of doubt in his voice or her heart that he loved her that much. She wondered for a split second if she would do the same, and it took only an instant, citing the way she felt around him, that she would do the same. She cursed the constant intensity of emotion that she experienced, being an Eldar, though she attributed far less of it to her race than she did simply to what he had said, and what it meant to her.

"I…"

He placed his free hand on her cheek. "I love you, and that's what you mean to me. I'm not sure if you understand, but... "

Tears were pooling at the edges of her eyes, and one broke free and began to slide down her face before landing lightly on his hand. Her hand rose and rested on his. "I do." She was just as caught as he was in the gentle yet nearly insurmountable grip of love. It took them both over, two souls so deeply intertwined as to be nearly one entity.

He pulled her towards him, gently cradling her, and she obliged. As she drew nearer, his desire to be with her only grew stronger. Her face, an angelic incarnation of beauty, her skin nearly seeming to glow in the moonlight, filled is vision on a backdrop of golden-white ethereal hair.

She remembered the way she felt the first time he kissed her. It was a small gesture, but she had felt uncomfortable enough that he had noticed. When he actually did, though… she could barely come close to recreating the feeling that had flooded through her. Nonetheless, she still felt somewhat nervous again. Eyes closed, she moved to meet him, her heart pounding in her chest.

Andron's heart raced, and the several seconds it took them to meet felt like an eternity during which his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He noticed that she again had a hint of nervousness and hesitation to her posture, though far less than the first time. He would, contrary to normal Guardsman conduct, be as gentle with her as possible. He had already hurt her twice, and would damn himself to the warp if he ever did it again, especially on such a deep emotional level as was only possible where they were. He moved his head slightly to the side, and drew her in over the final small span that separated them.

He touched his lips to her cheek, planting a small kiss and receiving no indication to stop, moved again to center his face with hers.

She was jolted by the same feeling again when he kissed her, but it did little to prepare her for the intimacy of their lips coming into contact. She tensed up at first, before every last shred of apprehension was swept away and she relaxed, locking her lips with his.

His entire being became the point of contact between the two of them, her warm, tender lips against his own as they embraced.

Her mind was almost numb as she coupled with him, a warm tingling sensation spreading throughout her body. She was more invigorated than she ever had been during combat, and that feeling was only compounded when she felt his tongue enter her mouth to which she yelped in surprise, the sound muffled by the seal between them. Again, she was experiencing another first in her life, something she had never even paid any mind to until she met him. It was incredible. She began to mimic him, learning as she went, their tongues intertwining as they held each other tight.

The sweet taste of her was divine, the warmth of her mouth both comforting and arousing. He was elated to feel her response as he pressed deeper into the kiss as she became equally consumed by the intimacy between them. They were closer together than they ever had been before, feeling each other's every movement. They slowly broke apart, both reluctant to end their embrace, and he held her, staring into her emerald eyes as she softly panted, trying to catch her breath. After a scant moment he pulled her back towards himself, their eyes closed, and they locked lips once more, though breaking frequently for tiny intervals.

He felt her soft, sweet lips slide over his own as he began to run his hands up and down her back, eliciting a soft, slow intake of breath. They continued in this manner for several more seconds before breaking the kiss and locking eyes once more. They froze for a moment before they guided each other to lay down on the mat, Andron propped upon his arms as he stared at the sight of Aureleth before him, her expression conveying nothing save for passionate love, finally let loose after being paid no attention for so long. He leaned down, kissing her on the lips before doing so again and again, tracing a path down her cheek and onto her neck. He reached her neck, and the instant he put his lips to her, he felt her hands contract on his back, and heard her sigh, feeling her breasts against his chest as she breathed.

A wave of numbness traveled down her neck throughout her entire body as he made contact with her neck. The experience was growing more and more incredible with every passing second. She began to feel another sensation. Her stomach felt warm, and the feeling travelled downwards, beginning to concentrate around her hips.

Andron continued his path down her neck until he reached her breasts, at which point he stopped and looked up at her. A hint of hesitation began to cross her face once again, but she took his hand in her own, and guided it to the tab on her suit before slowly beginning to pull it downwards. Her cleavage became exposed, and Andron swallowed, pausing. He leant down and held her in a kiss as his hand advanced further downward.

Aureleth squirmed ever so slightly as she felt the cool night air creeping down her exposed body, becoming more open to him by the second. She had never been like this, exposed in such a manner in front of anyone before. She felt almost embarrassed, but at the same time glad that it would be in front of him, whom she trusted utterly with herself. She felt the suit stop opening just above her waistline, the suit now slackened and precariously clinging to her ample breasts which were nearly open to him. He shifted his weight, still holding the kiss, and slipped his hand under her suit. The feeling of his hands running up and down her side was intoxicating, which she indicated with a sigh.

Andron ran his hand down her body, her smooth skin save for the two scars and bandages caressing his fingertips as he ran his hand over every graceful curve of her frame, down to her waist. He was rewarded with a sigh, her now hot breath filling his mouth and escaping from her nose onto his face. He decided he would go even further, and make the experience even more enjoyable for her. He broke the kiss, and they held each other's gaze. He peeled away the suit still clinging to her bosom, completely exposing her large breasts, capped with round nipples surrounded by tan areolas. He then pulled on the suit more, slipping it over her arms leaving her entire upper half exposed. He leaned in and locked her in yet another kiss before stitching a path down over her chin, and neck, placing a final kiss between her breasts before pulling his head back. He cupped her bust in his hands and gently but firmly molded them, eliciting soft sighs from the woman under him. Manipulating their soft, smooth, and warm forms, he wrapped his index fingers and thumbs over top of them and gently pinched her nipples causing her to gasp, her bust rising with her chest, further pressing into his hands.

* * *

><p>Her entire life, she had been conditioned to follow a path and avoid any temptations or extreme pleasures, but the sensation she felt when he did that was even more erotic than the others, her entire body tingling from the two epicenters on her chest. He was teaching her a lot more than field medicine. The feeling in her lower abdomen was intensifying, and beginning to spread outwards as he moved his fingertips back and forth, slightly twisting her nipples as he leaned in again to kiss her on the neck. He stopped, to her extreme dismay, and she squirmed slightly as he got up on his knees into a sitting position. He unbuttoned his fatigues and removed his shirt, exposing a chiseled abdomen with a slightly noticeable sheen of sweat on it. Normally she would have found such a thing unpleasant, but she instead found it extremely attractive as it highlighted his muscular frame. He leaned back in, this time deeply and locked lips with her yet again, heat pouring from his body onto hers.<p>

Her soft breasts were pinned between her and him, her nipples rubbing his chest as he made love to her. The feeling of her skin against his, her beautifully and elegantly formed body pressed tightly against him was driving him mad, but he held back, mindful of his oath. They remained like that for several minutes, her arms running up and down his back as she tried to feel every inch of his body before he broke the kiss, and looked deeply into her eyes.

* * *

><p>"Do you trust me?" He asked in an affectionate yet serious tone.<p>

Aureleth smiled. "With everything."

He returned her smile before leaning in again and stitching a path down her neck, over her breasts, and down her stomach, her warmth radiating onto his face. He approached her waistline, and she squirmed with pleasure as he went nearer and nearer to her nether regions. He stopped just below her waist, and looked up to her for approval, her eyes meeting his as she peered over the two large mounds on her chest.

All her life, from the time she was but a child she had been living a live devoid of any sort of intimacy, whether through affection from a parent or the embrace of a lover. All that lay in her future were paths, predetermined routes that she was to follow. Eldar society shunned one of the most important aspects of the well-being of a sentient mind: companionship. She had fought beside many warriors, had many friends, but it was always lacking a key element that could have only been fulfilled with the right person, and that she did not understand until recently, even though it was still mysterious. The only physical contact she could recall was the tending of wounds received in battle or an occasional clasp of gauntlets. Always, though she was among thousands, she was also alone. She had been repressed her entire life by a society completely focused on avoiding any kind of pleasure, and it had withered away at her soul before he entered her life and, in a few short days, freed her from the shackles that had pinned her to the ground for the past century. He had shown her things she didn't even know of, making her body react to him in ways she hadn't known were possible, making her experience sensations which were completely new, exciting, and erotic. He had proven that he loved her, and she knew that she loved him. She was not lying when she said she would trust him with everything because she knew he could be. She loved him deeply, and wanted to give him the most precious gift a woman could give. While she was never privy to any of the recreational aspects of what they were doing, she did know the emotional and moral weight of what she still held, and had only thought about when she had first learned of it, and never since then until now. She wanted to be closer to him, as close as she possibly could both spiritually and physically. She nodded.

He moved back up and took hold of the sleeves of her half-removed suit, peeling it away under her after another short kiss. She arched her back so it could slide under her, causing her breasts to thrust out and bounce. Andron pulled downward, the suit peeling away from her body until it reached her waist. He paused, and they both took a deep breath. He pulled, the suit sliding over her waist, and then her gracefully curved hips, revealing a small patch of short golden hair. He continued to remove the suit, exposing her long sculpted legs, and finally removed it completely. He was taken aback by her incredible beauty, and sat motionless for a moment as she shifted her body under his gaze, embarrassed.

"You're… you're beautiful," was all he could muster, to which she smiled while her legs remained overlapping, concealing her womanhood from direct view.

She had never imagined she would be in the manner she was, let alone in front of a human, or even another eldar. Nonetheless, she was happy it would be him, and she eagerly awaited what would come next, as the details were still a mystery to her. He leaned in over her again, slipping his hand under her leg at the knee, and bringing her thigh up with him as he held her in a deep kiss, their tongues probing into each other's mouths. He grabbed her breasts again and pinched her, sending tingling waves of pleasure throughout her body. He leaned in further, and she felt his pants rub against her, suddenly sending a powerful electrifying wave of pleasure shooting through her entire body from a tiny origin where he had brushed against her. She took a huge breath of air and arched her back, pressing her breasts into him and squeezing him to her. He kissed her neck, supplementing the feeling and it sustained itself for a moment longer before fading. He then rolled off of her and, laying on the mat next to her, removed his fatigues and undergarment. His manhood sprang up after being held down for so long, and she stared at it with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. He rolled back over onto his hands and knees above her.

She looked up at him, her green emerald eyes reflecting his face. "Do you still want this? It doesn't have to be now." He was assuming that they'd live into the next few days. He hoped to the God-Emperor that he would understand and help him survive. She was all he was living for. He didn't even know what they were going to do, where they were going to go, or how they were going to get there, but all he had was a ceramite determination to ensure that she remained unharmed, and he would even give his life to keep that promise.

She nodded tentatively, doubts beginning to creep into her mind for reasons that she wasn't completely sure of. Just moments ago she wanted it, but now, as there is nothing separating him and her, or her chastity. She loved what was happening to her. She was becoming free of her oppressive roots, but that also held serious potential consequences. She knew that, in the end, her society was a reflection of its past mistakes. It had become that way because of excess and the Eldar's susceptibility to lavishness. Despite her previous feelings, fear began to pool in her stomach, creating an icy pit that was intensifying as each instant passed. She looked at Andron, not even the slightest allusion to malevolence on his face. He only wanted her to be happy, which he had made clear before they had started. She tried to find the reason behind her fear, and could not, despite searching intently. Was it the fact that She Who Thirsts would take the first opportunity presented to consume her soul? Possibly, but that didn't explain all of it, as the past moments of enlightenment and freedom was well worth the risk to her. She realized that there was no _real_ tangible reason, that it simply did not feel right at that time. She wanted it, him, but she just didn't feel ready for it at that moment. It was just too fast for her, and she felt as if she was becoming overwhelmed. Those were the least solid reasons for fear she had ever had, yet it gripped her in such a way that she could not dismiss it. She had never felt so… vulnerable. She looked away, biting her lip, trying to fight back the intense wave of emotions that was seizing her. She couldn't go through with it. She felt the head radiating off of his member on her skin.

"Wait," She tightened her legs, concealing her womanhood. Andron stopped in his tracks, a look of concern crossing his face.

"What, what's wrong?"

She still looked away. "I… I can't… I'm afraid. I…" She choked up, eyes glistening, a tidal wave of repressed emotions about to break free.

"Was it something I did?" He was already cursing himself to the Warp and back.

"No, no… I…" She couldn't say it, because as she went to her throat seized, refusing to let any words escape. She felt alone again. She didn't know why, but that ever present feeling of loneliness that shadowed her for nearly the past two centuries began to spread throughout her again. It was then that she understood why she was feeling the way she did. For her entire life, she was forced to bottle up her emotions, suppress as much feeling as she could as her culture demanded. That, coupled with the physical isolation she experienced for all that time, formed a festering wound in her soul far worse than any she had received in combat. Now, experiencing something as powerful as physical intimacy, and love, it was set to purge itself.

Andron moved aside, and lay next to her on his side. "Aureleth," he said gently, turning her head to face him, holding her chin between his index finger and thumb. She looked pitiful, like a child about to suffer an emotional breakdown. It saddened him deeply to see her in such a state.

What she wanted more than anything, she realized, was the loving embrace of someone to comfort her. She had never, in over a century of life and all of its pains, had that luxury. At that moment, however, it lay next to her. All she wanted was for him to give her the greatest he had to offer her at that moment. She rolled over, wrapped her arms around him, and wept, the feeling of his warm embrace, his arms around her back further adding to a haven where, for the first time in her life, she could let out all of the pain and sadness she had accumulated over her life.

Andron lay with her wrapped in his arms, there for her as he promised he would be. He could almost feel her pain radiating off of her onto him. He had been raised somewhat similarly, though instead of bottling up his pains and fears, he was taught to extinguish them. She was left for her soul to slowly rot away, consumed by an oppressive lifestyle and utter lack of affection. Her tears trickled down her face, becoming caught between her cheek and his chest where she pressed against him, trying to get ever closer to him. He gently ran his fingers through her wispy hair offering as much comfort as a man himself in pain could. He had demons, he just ignored them. One day, though, he would have to face them… He kissed the top of her head. His mind wandered, though never strayed far from her. He thought about what they had done, about her sudden breakdown. She was emotionally fragile, he should have known that. Her life was in turmoil, and he had only added to it, and she was vulnerable despite the ironclad façade she had tried to maintain at first. He had taken her emotions and used them, hadn't he? He wasn't sure… his oath rang in his mind once again, sending a red-hot lance of guilt into his heart. He prayed dearly that he hadn't, for to him, it would mean the loss of the last of his humanity. Slowly, over his lifetime, his ability to feel, to be compassionate, had been withered away time after time. She had revitalized that part of him, and he'd be damned If he would let it die again. All he could do, _wanted _to do, was hold her tight.

They lay like that for what felt like an eternity before drifting off to sleep together, in each other's arms, Aureleth venting centuries of angst built up, feeling the soothing embrace of a lover long overdue; and Andron, holding tightly the only thing in the galaxy that mattered to him anymore.

**Sorry this one took so long, it's tough typing with one hand.**

**ba-ZING**

**In all seriousness, though, this one was tough. I was trying to think of the best way to proceed, and after MUCH thought, it came to this (not for the worse, I think). We'll get back into the action soon. I just have to figure out what's going to happen next. **


	10. The Journey Ahead

**Sorry I took so long. Mid-terms are a bitch. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you guys, but my style of writing means that there's gonna be some nasty brick walls that I have to beat my head against before continuing. Once I find a way through, however, it's smooth sailing. I'd like to thank A Drunk Canadian for his massive amounts of input on my last chapter (sorry, forgot about you :P) But yeah if you guys have any suggestions, feel free to tell me. Also, as you might already know (not sure) I live on a diet of straight Metal. That's all kinds of metal from ear-shatteringly brutal bands like Cannibal Corpse and Lamb of God (who I saw yesterday and got all of their autographs :D), to melodic Power Metal bands like Pathfinder and Blind Guardian. I love it all. Anyway I was listening to one band, called Symphony X (the guitarist is insane) and I came across this song here /watch?v=Y8s3LVHH5Dk called "The Sacrifice". It goes so perfectly perfect with this story that I was literally in tears as I listened to it. Anyway, next chapter is coming. There will be action, don't worry (I mean the killing kind) but I just have to find good places to put it. Since they're heading into an area South of the Eldar lines which were on the Southern end of the Dome of Shattered Skies (I think that's what I called it) with the Imperial forces coming from the North, there's a good chance they'll be caught in quite the clusterf*ck in a little while.**

Andron's eyes snapped open. Laying still, his arms around the woman he loved, his eyes took in the room around him. They were alone, and it was daytime, the sun's rays lancing into the room made visible by dust in the air. The ground shook slightly, followed by a deep rumble that faded after several seconds. The sound of las shots was slightly more audible. The battle had drawn closer over the course of the night. They would have to move, and do so soon… but where would they go? He leaned his head back, and watched her as she slept huddled against him. He gently stroked her upper arm and placed a kiss on her cheek, causing her to stir. Her eyes fluttered open halfway, before a look of slight shock crossed her face.

She looked down. She saw her bare breasts resting up against his chest. She thought it had all been a dream… the events of the past night flooded back into her mind from the electrifying first kiss to the soothing comfort of falling asleep in his arms, her pains finally melting away. She smiled.

"Thank you,"

"For what?" Andron smiled at her affectionately.

She sighed, some of the pain from the end of the night coming back. "For being there. I've… never had that before." She embraced him tightly. "My people think it unnecessary to have someone to comfort you the way you did for me last night. I was conditioned to avoid such things, for danger of being consumed by She Who Thirsts, and also simply as a reflection of our prudish society, but all of my pains just festered over time as a result. I had to carry them with me as they accumulated. You gave me a place where I felt safe to finally let them out. I needed that… I have for a long time."

She meant, he realized, the latter part of their experience together, when she wept in his arms. He was afraid to touch on the subject of what happened before, whether or not she was comfortable with what he had done to her… it had been _for_ her, he thought, hadn't it? The thought was caustic, eating away at him with each passing second. Surely she remembered what had preceded what she had mentioned, and if so, she showed no hostility or regret over it. He had to know, though. She had to tell him herself before he would dismiss it.

"A-"an explosion, much nearer now, rattled the windows. They had to move immediately or else risk being caught in a battlefield. "We have to go. Now," It took all of his willpower to get up and break his embrace with her, but he knew that to remain there would mean death. It would almost be worth it if not for the wasted future.

Aureleth stood, slipping into her suit, hiding her beauty once more from his eyes before beginning to don her armor. Andron stepped into his fatigues and boots before putting on the rather scant armor that he had and hauling his pack onto his back. He bent to pick up his lasrifle, planning their next move… whatever it would be.

"You live here, so I'll assume that you know somewhere we can go to…" he had no idea at all. It still almost seemed surreal. He finished his sentence with what was their only viable next step, "plan."

Aureleth affixed the final pieces of her armor before picking up her helmet and holding it tucked under her arm, shuriken pistol and chainsword at her side. "Rimward from here are the Plains of Ildanesh. I came here from the Dome of Falling skies, where our… the Eldar and Imperial lines were skirmishing. It looked to be a stalemate. On the other side of the Plains is a transport hub. There are several here, but they are several miles away, and we would most likely have to run through warzones to reach them. Our best option is to get to that hub, and then we can decide what to do after that. We will at least have bought some time." She looked up from thinking, to see him looking out of the window intently. "What is it?"

"We better get going, someone's getting pushed back, and I sure as hell don't want to be caught up in it." The fact that they had little in the way of food and supplies jumped into his head. "We need food. If we're crossing plains, and judging by the size of this place, we're definitely going to need it."

"Maybe below us?"

"Sure," he looked out the window again. "We should go."

They searched the house, finding some food that he had not the slightest idea as to what it was, but hoped he could eat, and some water. It would last them a few days. As they made to leave, they could hear the first cries of death and shouts of the day amidst the growing din of gunfire. Andron exited the house out of its back, lasrifle raised ready to face any danger. He was greeted by a curved road sweeping into the distance between buildings, various passageways between them. A smoky haze from the fighting nearby was settling on the ground, dissipating much of the sunlight and casting an eerie glow throughout the area. Several abandoned vehicles, their sleek curved surfaces beginning to retain a thin coating of dust, lay in the road.

The Plains of Ildanesh were a couple of miles rimward, and it wouldn't take them long to reach the outskirts of the city as long as they were able to avoid any conflict. He swept his lasrifle across the foreign landscape and, seeing nothing, advanced with Aureleth in tow, her weapons at her side, but ready to be used at an instant's notice. They dashed across the road, pressing up against the façade of the dwelling opposite the one they had just exited. Between their cover and the adjacent structure was a small alleyway, and it appeared, judging by the curvature of the road, that the entire city was composed of concentric circles of structures from shops and markets in the center to homes arranged in two rows per ring, backs to each other, on the outskirts. Andron saw a large road cutting through the curved one on which he and Aureleth currently stood. He assumed that it went to the center… and the outskirts.

"Could we take that and make our way to the Plains by following it?" He indicated the road.

"I believe so, but any troop movement and fighting will most likely be centered around those roads, seeing as they allow almost unrestricted travel to the center of the city. We would have to exercise great caution,"

They skirted the ring of buildings until they reached the intersection. Andron poked his head around the corner of the corner-building they were up against before slinking around, and sprinting to the next row of homes. He made to sprint along the wall to the next building up the main road, but felt a hand grab the loop on the back of his vest and pull him back into cover. He looked to his left and saw an Imperial mechanized infantry detachment making its way up the road. A Chimera flanked by over a dozen guardsmen was headed directly for them. If they did not move, they would be seen. Andron frantically sought a place for them to hide before kicking down the door on the wall next to him and slinking inside, with Aureleth in tow. They observed the group through a window, and the tank ponderously made its way past them. From the building next to its position on the road, less than a hundred feet from them on the next ring outward, on the second floor, a flash followed by a missile screaming on a column of fire impacted the tank. A ring of smoke billowed from the impact point as the round penetrated the ceramite armor, the intense heat of the charge melting through it and vaporizing the occupants inside. Immediately following were hails of shuriken fire from all directions, shredding several of the guardsmen before they had even known what had happened. Those that were still alive whipped their rifles toward the sources of the enemy fire and, kneeling, sent volleys of lasfire into the windows and facades of the Eldar structures, melting chunks of the walls and boring holes into the ceilings inside where they shot through windows. It was a scene of utter chaos… a perfect opportunity.

"Come on!" Andron sprinted through the home and kicked open the door on the other end.

There was a small path running to the left and right between the home they had just exited and the one facing away from it that he was now about to enter. Wanting to stay in cover as much as possible, made his way as quickly as possible through that house, too. He shouldered the door open, bursting into the street and the cacophony of war. The sharp smell of explosives and ozone from the lasrifles burned his nose as he sprinted across the street to the next ring with Aureleth right behind him. He lowered his shoulder and, without slowing down, used his body as a battering ram, slamming into the front door of the home opposite the one they had hidden in with all of his might. They were in what appeared to be a room for congregating, with a kitchen adjacent to it with no doors barring entry. To their left was a room separated from their current location by a waist-high wall, with a window facing north, and the street where the battle was currently taking place. East of that room was another that was adjacent to the street, however they could not be seen from it so long as the occupants were to stay. There was a very open feeling to the home—not good for trying to stay hidden. Aureleth took up position right next to him, weapons at the ready.

"We have to keep r—" from outside, he heard the acting commanding officer shout for his troops to find cover in the houses. "Hide!" He grabbed her and pulled her against his side with his right arm while holding his lasrifle at the ready with his left. Together they dove behind the cover of the waist-high wall a few feet from the door that he just broke nearly off of its hinges. They pressed up against it as much as they could, trying to conceal themselves as well as possible. They would have almost nowhere to run if they were seen. From outside came several screams accompanied by the sound of breaking glass as some soldiers were shot down as they attempted to gain entry into the house from the Eldar across the street from them. Glass tinkled on the floor before Andron heard it crunch under heavy footfalls as a Guardsman vaulted the window sill into the house. The implications of what might happen in the next minute began to run through his mind. He had already spared, fallen in love with, and made love to someone he should have, according to his superiors' doctrines, done no less than killed and burnt. There is a difference between saving a life, and then taking one for a righteous cause, however. A dark trial was imminent, he knew. The last time he had been forced to, at gunpoint. The next time, however, it would be his decision. One question remained in his mind: Could he do it? He hoped he would never know.

The man continued forward, pivoting off of his boots and landing on his stomach on the floor with a grunt and a thud. A moan of pain emanated from the man's location cutting through the chilling silence that seemed to fill the home despite a battle raging just outside of its walls. Glass crunched again as he got up, and once again the only noise reaching their ears was from the battle outside. The soft whine of a lasrifle charging made itself barely audible over the din of war. The man must have been in the process of reloading when given the order to move. There were still Eldar warriors in the floor above, and they surely would have heard the Guardsman's intrusion. Andron's fingers opened and closed their grip on the lasrifle, his heart pounding. The last thing he wanted to do was kill a fellow human, but for her…

A flurry of shuriken erupt from the outside walls, shattering the last fragments of glass from the windows and rending the interior walls apart as they tumbled and fragmented, spraying debris and dust in all directions in a hurricane of shrapnel. The other walls were peppered with fragments, the decorations in the room obliterated under a hail of projectiles of all kinds. Shrapnel hissed over Andron's cover, ricocheting off of the walls behind them or embedding itself in furniture. The man swore loudly and Andron heard with mounting terror and dread the heavy footfalls stomping their way. The gunfire that had chased him through the window stopped a split second before he vaulted over the waist-high wall Andron and Aureleth were huddled behind. He was the officer, though not a Commissar. He skidded to a halt before scooting up against the wall with rifle held at the ready. Andron sucked in a breath, though not loudly enough so as to be heard above the gunfire. He gripped Aureleth as tightly as he could with his right arm, as if doing so would make her impossible to see. The man, young, though older than Andron by several years, took the moment of respite he had found to scan his surroundings. Andron gripped his rifle almost as tightly as he did her, preparing for the inevitable. He held it upward towards the ceiling, however, praying that he could somehow avoid having to kill the man, yet remaining prepared as best he could to do so if need be. He would have to rotate his head all the way to the right in order to see them, and there was the slightest chance that he might not have, but that proved false as he found himself staring into the face of a bewildered Guardsman who was obviously wondering who the hell he was and how he had gotten there. Judging by the lack of utter shock on the man's face, Andron knew that he had a few split seconds left before the man saw her.

"You, what the h—"He froze. "What—" It was taking time for his mind to wrap itself around the astronomical magnitude of the heresy he was witnessing so suddenly. Andron gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to have to do it. There was no choice, no way in the Warp that this man would let them live. He dared not think of the slim possibility that the man might understand, though that did not rule it out. Even if the chances were even that he would not try to kill them, Andron wouldn't risk it… her. He opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he leveled his rifle at the man, who was still staring in shock, probably a second or two away from coming out of the trance. Lasrifle on his left arm, the woman he loved cradled in his right, a flabbergasted officer scrambling for his weapon, understanding that his death at the hands of his own kind, not even corrupted by Chaos, but by some other force that he would never understand, was imminent, Andron squeezed the trigger.

The few yards between the officer and Andron were covered in a picosecond by the lasbolt, the air cracking as it was superheated and expanded rapidly by the red bolt of light lancing between the two men, casting an eerie red glow and shadows on their faces and around the room. All three faces were pained, some more deeply than others, one reflecting physical pain, another sympathy and pity, and the third showing a soul having yet another piece torn from it. The room went back to its original tint for a split second before flashing blood red once again as another bolt seared the air between the two, boring deep into the dying guardsman's body, scorching organs, flash-boiling blood causing rapid expansion of the surrounding tissue, destroying his chest. The red glinted off of a tear running down Andron's face. The red flashed several more times over the course of a second before it stopped. The guardsman's mouth was leaking blood ejected from the orifice as it expanded from the heat and he slumped backwards against the wall. The last thing the man saw was a fellow guardsman holding a lasrifle, its muzzle glowing slightly from the heat of firing, with a look of immense pain on his face and a xenos woman held tightly to him. He did not understand, nor did he have time to understand what was happening, and why, but as he felt the last of his life slipping away and his mind drifted towards death… he wondered.

The rifle was heavy, not meant to be held with only one hand at arm's length. That was only compounded by how weak he felt. Andron slumped back, the rifle's muzzle clattering on the ground. He leaned his head back hard against the wall with a thud and sat for several seconds in silence. He squeezed the grip on the lasrifle tightly, then loosened it as his hand tired out. He turned is head down and met her gaze, "Come on. We should get out of here."

He stood wearily, and shuffled over to the corpse. Kneeling down, he reached under the man's collar. Jaravik Brosten. He took one of the tags. There was a small pict in his breast pocket. He gingerly removed it. There was a woman, and a child. They stood in front of a small home in a large open field, the massive spires of a hive visible in the distant background. The sun was setting. He put the pict in his pocket.

She sighed, feeling his pain as she watched him learn not only the identity, but more still of who the man he killed was. "Andron… w—"

"We'll talk about it later," he said, the slightest bit too harshly, squatted and staring at the ground. "I…" he sighed, "let's just g—"

Footsteps resonated from the floor above. His head darted up. "Now!" He motioned to her to follow, rifle in hand and began sprinting toward the rear entrance that would open into another small alleyway separating their current location from the adjacent house. He ran through the hall as fast as his legs could carry him. He was just about to pass where the staircase met the floor when three armored figures seemed to appear out of thin air in front of him. They had leapt down the stairs in almost a single bound, cutting off the rear entrance.

Time seemed to slow. Their green and yellow armor reflected the sunlight coming into the house. Their ornate armor covered their faces, the only expression he could see being one of anger, set into the ruby colored eye-gems on their faces. They were common foot soldiers, Guardians. They seemed slightly startled to suddenly be face to face with a lone guardsman sprinting at them, though not a single shred of fear was evident. They ponderously reached for their weapons as he put every last ounce of effort he could muster into reversing his direction and making it to cover. Engaging three Eldar in hand-to-hand combat was suicide. His only hope was to get to cover, and do so almost instantly. His feet skidded on the smooth floor, dust from the battle that had settled on it slowly rising from its rest into the air in wisps around his feet.

He wasn't going to make it. It had been only a fraction of a second but he could already tell he was going to be too slow, as he had only just turned around. He was going to die, right there, in front of her. Still, he pushed himself as hard as his body would allow to attempt to escape. A thought flashed through his mind. He wondered what they would think... of Aureleth and him. He knew how Guardsmen would think, but maybe… they were different. It probably wasn't going to matter in a split second anyway. A figure wearing green and yellow mesh armor appears in front of him. A hand grabs the loop on his vest and pulls with incredible force, holding on so that he swings around the person the hand belonged to. He lost his balance, and was in the process of falling, turning around to face the three warriors again with his momentum. He landed with a hard thud, his vision going out of focus before returning to normal. She had taken his place. She stood in front of them, where he was a split second before. His mind was filled with utter horror and panic at what would happen next. He couldn't even comprehend what would happen. His mind refused to accept the fact that she might die within the next second. He had no idea what he would do. He only hoped that they would kill him, too.

The warriors froze, completely at a loss as to what just happened. Weapons almost shouldered, they were stuck in place, shocked at what they had seen. One of their own kind had just put her life in danger for a Mon'Kiegh. She stood, having not moved a muscle since releasing the man, hand still extended behind her, feet planted firmly on the floor in a wide stance. She spoke.

She was speaking in her own tongue, so Andron could only guess as to what she was saying, though he was sure that it was in his defense. He was still in a light state of shock, as he'd come within a hair's breadth of death. If it hadn't been for her…

"What do you mean, this Mon'Kiegh saved your life? And why the talk about destiny, are you insane? They just killed five of us!" He pointed a stiff arm toward the street, leaning toward her. The anger displayed on the helmet most likely paled in comparison to the fury written on his face. He was a Guardian, a standard foot soldier yelling right into the face of an ex-Howling Banshee. If she was intent on it, she could probably kill all of them, and given the fact that she was protecting a human, that may very well have been a possibility. Still, he was too uproariously taken aback at the insanity playing out in front of him to bother with such thoughts.

"I mean I'd be dead if it were not for him! Twice, he did. He spared my life. He could have killed me, I was unarmed, but he chose not to. He protected me, from his own kind, too!" She didn't know what she was going to do, though she had a fair idea as to what it would probably be if they tried to kill him.

"He spared _you_, but how many of _us_ has he killed before, or since then?"

"In all the time that I have seen him, he has killed nobody. We've fought… twice. He always seemed reluctant to engage, but only did so in defense of his own life."

"You've engaged in combat with this Mon'Kiegh?"

"Four years ago, on Auraxis," she sighed. At least they weren't attempting to move past her toward him. The battle was taking a more calm and consistent pace, slowing slightly, but stopping in its waning, reaching a balance of franticness and control.

"How could that possibly be him? They all look the same, and in addition, how are both of you alive? Surely it would have ended in one of your deaths." He was incredulous, still largely at a loss and unable to comprehend the farce of a relationship, in the strictest sense of the word, in front of him.

"I killed him… or so I thought. He was injured badly, against a wall, bleeding and battered. What struck me so much was the look in his eyes. There was no fiery defiance, or blind faith that we have grown so accustomed to dealing with. I saw… enlightenment. He was different. Still, I fired my weapon at his head, caught in a blind fury because of the death of my long-time friend, but some incredible twist of fate saved his life." She didn't know what else to say except their history. Maybe they would believe that fate had something special planned for them.

The warriors shared sidelong glances, their helmets gesturing slightly with the action. They were amused at that point. "Continue. You have my interest, though not because I approve."

She growled quietly. "We fought again, yesterday; though it was after he spared me and we were forced to part ways after his kind were on the brink of finding us. He warned me to escape. We did not see each other until the next day. Though we did not know it, we were to fight again. In that engagement, he killed no one, only defending himself. We fought again, in single hand-to-hand combat—"

"And he survived? He must be a good fighter, for a human."

Andron sat, having absolutely no idea what in the Emperor's name was going on, in the same position he had landed in, rooted in place.

"I defeated him, again," The warriors huffed in contempt at that, reveling in the superiority of their race. "A similar situation played out. I saw that it was him, and that I had nearly killed him. We found shelter in an abandoned building and tended each other's wounds." Memories of that night flooded into her mind, causing her to blush intensely. She thanked the gods for her helmet. Her fists clenched, and she stiffened.

"That still does not answer my question. He spared you, you tried to kill him, we are at war, and you are protecting the enemy. Why?"

She mumbled something, and they were unable to hear.

"I cannot understand you; you realize there is a battle raging outside, correct? While you are here with this hapless Mon'Keigh, our people are dying, because of vermin just like him!"

"You think him a vermin simply because he is human? What about us? What about our fallen brethren, who perform atrocities equally unspeakable as some that we have seen at the hands of humanity? He is not one of them." She still wasn't sure what they would possibly do in the end, but just having more time, even if it were only putting off the inevitable, was worth it.

The senior of the three warriors cocked his head, placing his two fingers against where his ear was under the helmet. "We do not have time for this," he was speaking through gritted teeth. The humans were retreating, and they were to give chase through the surrounding area to hunt them down. "Step aside. We cannot risk letting any of them live." He hefted his rifle.

She snapped, her chainsword flashing from her hip, instantly down at her side as she assumed a combat stance. "You will not harm him!" she roared.

Andron was worried. That was definitely not a good sign.

"You will have to kill me first before you lay a hand on him!"

He took a near imperceptibly small step back. He was beginning to understand. It was not simply a return of a kind gesture she was giving him. He had noticed the way she suddenly tensed up when she mentioned their wounds and how they tended them. He also knew of it being perfectly possible, and that things such as what he realized he may very well be looking at were not rare on exodite worlds, where humans and Eldar _did_ live in peace. Surely she had come into physical contact with him as he healed her, something rare for an Eldar.

"That night you were both wounded. What happened?"

She relaxed from her stance, but stiffened up again slightly in the nervous manner he had noticed from before. "I told you, we medicated and bandaged our wounds."

"Is that all?" He asked in a tone that indicated that he most likely knew the answer.

She gasped.

He chuckled. The soldier behind him spoke for the first time. "We must leave; _now_."

"Come, we go to war." He nodded to the female who had risked her life for the human on the floor, and then cast him a sidelong glance as he turned to leave.

The sounds of battle had faded somewhat, and they were alone once again.


	11. The Light in the Black

They stood for several seconds, contemplating the meaning of what just happened before Andron broke the silence.

"We should keep going," he rose to his feet and retrieved his lasrifle.

"We are almost at the outskirts. The Plains of Ildanesh should be not too far. The battle seems to have moved away, so we should not be in any immediate danger." She turned to leave.

"Aureleth,"

She froze for a second before turning to face him.

"Thank you," he smiled. "I would've been—"

"But you aren't, and you live," she interjected, somewhat to his surprise with its curtness. "And, after all you have done for me… " She sighed softly, "Come, we're almost there." She turned to walk through the door Andron had originally intended to pass through before the previous encounter. She didn't want to think of the possibility of him dying. As she walked, she wondered a little if she—

"Would you have actually done it?"

She turned again to face him. "Would I have done what?"

"If they'd tried to move past you, towards me, would you have killed them?" They were in love, that much was evident between them, but Andron had witnessed plenty of atrocities by his own kind to slightly numb the pain of killing one of his own. She, however, as far as he knew, did not. The Eldar were careful, and calculating. While that gave them a sinister appearance in the eyes of short-lived humans, it also made them far less blunt. Where the Eldar operated like a scalpel, the Imperium was a chainsword. Endless collateral damage and pointless deaths were bound to come out of such a way of fighting, and humanity's seeming unwillingness and lack of caring to change it had definitely removed some of the hesitation for him.

She looked him straight in the eyes, her posture not faltering in the slightest, "Absolutely. I did not want to, however, but… but for you… I meant every word of it," her voice was hard as steel, a far cry from its characteristic softness. She sighed, her head turned downwards. "If you were hurt…" She realized that she couldn't even bear thinking about it. Again, though they had only known each other for a couple of days, the connection between them had grown stronger than either had thought possible before, and especially her. At that point, he was all that she had.

"We need to move if we are to get to the Plains by night time," She turned and walked, leaving Andron to stand in silent contemplation for several moments before he caught up to her with a short jog.

They exited the home, and moved to the street, which was yet another ring in the series of concentric ones around the city's center. They decided that it would be best to stick to the main road, but to travel behind or through the other houses in order to avoid being directly seen. They entered the next one, directly across from the one that they had just left. It was the same, essentially, with the only difference being the orientation and types of furniture to be found inside, as well as the interior colors and decorations. The architecture, however, much like with any massive settlement, adhered to a standard.

The door was open, and Andron slid around the doorframe in a fluid motion, raising his rifle and scanning the interior as he entered. Some stray projectiles had torn through the inner wall from the outside, leaving tiny holes in the wall. Some of the furniture was overturned, and in the kitchen it looked as if the occupants had been cooking a meal before having to flee suddenly. He wondered if they were alive…

He decided for reference's sake that he'd explore the upper level, since the information could mean the difference between life and death at a later time. The bottom floor was clear, and he lowered his rifle as he exited the smaller rooms into the main entrance area. Aureleth had waited for him, keeping an eye out in case anyone had returned from behind them. There was nobody.

"I'm going to check upstairs. Knowing the layout could be important in the future," he made his way to the stairs.

"I'll wait for you here. If anyone comes, I'll let you know."

He climbed up the stairs, holding his lasrifle halfway to the ready, since he had not yet cleared the top floor.

* * *

><p>The layout was similar, except instead of only three doors on a single side, there were two others to his left. He held his rifle at the ready with one hand, raised almost completely, and carefully opened up the first door. He swept the room with his rifle in a split second, confirming that it was empty before relaxing. He slackened his muscles, his rifle hanging at his side, as he surveyed the room. It was a bedroom, and there were two sleeping mats on the floor. He scanned the walls out of curiosity and found several paintings, as well as sculptures on stands and a table that hade one that was apparently unfinished. He smiled. It seemed like the Eldar no longer knew the meaning of manual labor, or endless toiling away just to survive, and that they only had time for expression of talent when not interrupted by war. He further inspected his surroundings, the bright room providing a soothing atmosphere despite its location in a warzone. He felt comfortable inside of it; as if just for a few moments he could again find an escape from the horror going on around him. He continued his circuit around the room, basking in the comforting atmosphere. His lapse in concentration caused his rifle to knock a pict from its perch on the table with the unfinished sculpture. Out of instinct, he reached for it as it fell, his fingers brushing it before it fell from his grasp. He had deflected it just enough, however, that it landed on one of his boots before settling onto the floor without much noise, and did not break the silence. He stooped and picked it up.<p>

Two young girls; one which appeared to be in her mid to late teens, the other but a child, no more than ten, held each other, wearing bright smiles. They reminded him somewhat of Aureleth; both beautiful, which seemed to be a common trait among the Eldar, he realized. They were under a large tree, its white petals falling to the ground. The sun cast an orange glow on the sky behind them as it set. They looked happy… more so than he had ever been, he realized; at least until recently. He couldn't help but smile. He remembered little of his childhood, and most of what he did was filled with a lack of time to enjoy himself. They seemed to have all the time in the world, blessed with relatively peaceful lives and lifespans ten times longer than his own. They were obviously the ones who had inhabited the room he was standing in before they were forced to flee. A large part of him hoped they were okay, however heretical that might have been. He walked out of the room, the pict still in his hand.

He went to the door on his left next, opening it to find what appeared to be a secluded workspace. He was not sure if Eldar had any uses for offices at homes, but the walls were lined with tomes, scrolls, and several other kinds of information media that he had never seen before. A large desk dominated the room, and it had several opened tomes laying on it. They were all in a language he could not even begin to understand, so he only mused for a short time over the elegance that could be found even in their handwriting. He moved on, passing the first bedroom into a second one across the hallway.

Upon opening it, he was greeted with a similar layout, except with only one mat, and shelved walls with a myriad of scrolls and other mediums on them. The inhabitant of that room appeared to be male, and judging by the materials he saw, was most likely a young adult. When he was that age, the only thing in his future was the Guard. Wondering what a life of peace was like, he moved on.

The next room was larger than the others, and had a mat that could fit two. On the wall was a large, beautiful painting of the entire family, framed by shelves with tomes, other smaller picts, and various trinkets, works of art, and other decorations. On the painting there were a man and a woman standing behind their three children. The eldest man looked to be biologically of similar age to a human at forty, and had jet black hair slightly past his shoulders. He smiled, but there seemed a stiffness to his demeanor. His wife, if Eldar practiced such things, stood next to him, her right arm intertwined under his left at his side, her straight, blood red hair flowing over her shoulders, a single lock in front making its way down and disappearing behind her daughter. The younger woman in a long, ornate gown of blue and green, her hair flowing in soft waves, as opposed to perfectly straight like her mother's. She was a copy of her mother's beauty made younger. Next to her stood a boy of similar age, appearing to be in his late teens, wearing a small grin on his face. He resembled the man who stood behind him, from his facial features to his hair. In between him and his sister was a little girl, smiling happily. She looked no older than a human at ten years old. Her face was bright, her eyes sparkling with innocent youth. Her hair was long, straight, and red like her mother's. They stood happily in front of a backdrop of bright green rolling hills that stretched off into the distance. He wondered if those hills were not yet marred with craters and strewn with bodies and wreckage. He felt envious of them, he realized. Could it be that a portion of humanity's hate for the Eldar also came from those who had seen the lives of relative leisure that they lived? It was strange. He was standing in someone else's home, searching through their possessions, gaining insight into their private lives. He hoped he could one day live under similar circumstances, however impossible that might have seemed at the time.

"We must not waste too much time here," Aureleth called from the lower level, snapping him out of his trance.

"I'll be down shortly," he called. Everything seemed darker. He turned to leave the bedroom. There was an open room across from where he stood, with no door. It seemed to be another room for congregation from what he could see from his angle. He walked towards it, slightly more of the room coming into view past the edge of the wall that made the open doorway. He saw the corner of a massive rug. It was composed of a myriad of different bright colors, with intricate designs and patterns that transitioned into a brilliant field of red, its edges rounded and irregular. There was a foot. A foot attached to someone who was laying down protruded into his vision past the wall that was obstructing most of the room from him. His blood froze, and his grip tightened on his rifle so much so that it creaked imperceptibly. He did not want to, every fiber of his being told him not to, but he kept walking until he had a full view of the room.

* * *

><p>—<em>Yul'Te, Invasion +4 hours<em>—

_The ceiling was all that was present in her vision. Every day began like that. Anhariel would lay for several minutes, her body and mind returning to their full activity before she sat up. She stood, walking to the closet at the end of her room in the soft light permeating through the translucent windows, sunbeams lancing across the space. She removed her night gown, and replaced it with a casual robe, its yellow and blue colors intermingling with each other in intricate patterns and spirals up and down its length. As she combed her hair into a single, perfectly straight flowing cascade down to the middle of her back, she glanced over her shoulder at her sister, still asleep peacefully. She smiled. The smell of the first meal of her day wafted through their home, the aroma sweet. She descended to the lower level to find her mother preparing the meal. _

"_I see you are hard at work already. Would you like any help?" She smiled._

"_That would be wonderful. Here, help with this," she was handed a knife and several brightly colored fruits to cut. She stood next to her mother and set to work, delicately cutting and paring them into small wedges._

"_Is your sister still asleep?"_

"_When is she not, mother?" They both chuckled. "What is in store for us, today?"_

"_We will be preparing for the Dance of Lights, of course. My sister will be there." Her daughter's face lit up at the mention of her._

"_Oh, I haven't seen her in several cycles. I cannot wait!"_

_Her mother smiled. _

_Pounding footsteps resonated from the floor above, to which the two women looked with curiosity. The steps pounded down the stairs heralding a near panic-stricken man who was putting most of his effort into remaining composed, yet whose eyes betrayed his true feelings. Next to him stood his son. _

_Ilvanesh froze, immediately feeling the urgency radiating off of him, though her daughter continued cooking._

"_What is—"_

"_Humans!" His daughter reeled around, hair tracing a wide arc behind her head as she did so, eyes wide, knife still in hand. "Humans have attacked the space port, and they've broken through! I've just received word from my friend Korvashnel that we've been ordered to evacuate to the nearest staging area. We have to move within the hour, as Guardians are already on their way in response to Imperial forces that are also traveling towards us."_

"_Bacaroth, are you—" His spouse was about to raise an inquiry before he cut her off, panic beginning to seep into his voice._

"_We have to leave, _now_!" He ran from the kitchen back up the stairs to retrieve an antique shuriken pistol. _

_Footsteps were heard again, and the two women were too intently focused on them to hear the quiet padding of bare feet moving towards them. They looked down to see the youngest daughter standing in the doorway rubbing her eyes._

"_What's going o—" she was cut off from a deafening roar as Imperial Valkyries screamed overhead, their powerful engines rattling the knife on the counter until it fell from its perch, embedding itself in the floor inches from the older Daughter's foot. _

_Bacaroth returned to the kitchen, pistol in hand, shouting for them to go upstairs, and that leaving their home at that time would mean death as the Imperials had already arrived via dropships and were about to clash with Eldar Guardian forces advancing the other way. Together, they bounded up the steps and sought shelter in the parents' bedroom before blocking any external view into the room from the windows. Bacaroth sat against the wall, his pistol in hand. _

"_There is nothing we can do. We simply have to pray that any death avoids us. Moving now would be near suicide."_

_Outside, the sound of roaring engines built in intensity until it was almost deafening once again. The Valkyries were landing in the streets not far from their home. Immediately, the sound of shuriken launchers broke out, followed quickly by the loud cracks of superheated air expanding created by the guardsmen's lasrifles. Ilvanesh sat next to her older daughter, Anhariel, in the innermost corner of the room. Outside, the sounds of battle grew louder._

"_Naneth, I'm afraid," the youngest girl snuggled against her mother._

"_Do not worry, Eruwen. We are safe as long as we stay here."_

_Outside, war was waged, with men and eldar fighting and dying. As the Valkyries pulled out, their door gunners raking fire across the Eldar lines and buildings where the Guardians took cover, a missile lanced from a rooftop, screaming on a column of smoke and fire towards the fleet of dropships. It impacted the left wing of one of the transports, destroying its engine and throwing it off balance. Its uneven thrust caused it to lurch to the side as it began to spin onto its back, impacting a home, crushing through the front of the building and landing with a scream of twisted metal and shrapnel hissing through the air as the turbine dismantled itself. Smoke billowed from the crash site, but there was a great opportunity for the Imperials to push forward that was created, seeing as the debris created a screen, shielding a squad of soldiers from view for a short time. They seized the opportunity, their comrades providing suppressive fire, and sprinted to the downed dropship, its hull half embedded into the house. The leaped over the debris and made their way through the back, continuing down the alleyway until they were behind the Eldar defensive line. Not enough forces had built up for the battle to be especially huge, as most of the fighting was still directly outside of the spaceport, however these Imperial excursions of smaller task forces could potentially derail the Eldar defense of the craftworld if not dealt with promptly. _

_Attacking from behind, the guardsmen created disarray in the defensive line, gunning down several warriors and forcing their guns to be turned on them, taking pressure away from the advancing Imperial Guard forces, now with support from airlifted Chimeras. Though they inflicted considerable damage, the small Eldar Guardian force sent to deal with the Imperial splinter battalion was ultimately wiped out. _

_As the sound of shuriken fire died down, giving way to a crescendo of lasfire followed by an eerie silence, the family waited for what fate had in store for them next. The Imperials began to move through, presumably to another front that they would then engage on. The sound of the Chimeras' engines roaring as they carried their troop payloads grew and then began to fade as the faster elements of the battalion moved on ahead. Then, all that was heard was the marching of boots for several minutes that felt like an eternity. The sounds of the marching soldiers largely faded away, until only the footsteps of seven or eight men could be heard. They grew louder, and when the five Eldar expected them to grow quieter, they did not. Instead, they heard a door kicked in, and the sounds of broken glass, possessions being rifled through, and the guttural Low Gothic that the invaders spoke. The house next to them was being looted, and they could be next. Bacaroth grabbed his daughters and led them to their room, opening a closet._

"_I need you two to stay in here, no matter what happens. Stay absolutely quiet. Anhariel, take care of your sister. I will be back shortly," He offered a tiny smile that indicated that he obviously thought otherwise of his fate. He shut the door, leaving the two girls alone before going back to the rest of his family. If they all hid, they would be found. If his daughters and their mother hid, and he and his son fought, they would stand a chance. Both outcomes would have deadly consequences, but the one he had chosen, he felt, was the best. They would wait upstairs, and catch the looting soldiers by surprise if they went up there. His spouse hid in her room, leaving the two men to stand and fight. The sounds of the house next to them being ransacked died down, but they were followed by the sound of their own door being kicked in. The only defense that Bacaroth had was an antique shuriken pistol. They stood no chance of escape, so all they could do was hide and then fight. He looked at his son. "Korvanil, I know that this is the last thing any of us could have wanted, but it has come to this. We must fight these savages for our very lives."_

_They stood waiting. After a single minute that dragged on for an eternity, the soldiers ascended the stairs. In order to keep them from moving directly to the bedrooms and potentially finding his family, Bacaroth nudged an elbow into the wall, the faintest sound whispering through the home. The footsteps ceased immediately, and the sound of rifles against metal buckles and combat tunics echoed down the hallway. The steps resumed, painstakingly slow, but thankfully without stopping as they passed Anhariel and Eruwen, and then Ilvanesh. A couple more feet and they would enter into the room. In reality, Bacaroth had never fired a weapon in anger, nor was he experienced at all in fighting. His entire life had been spent in peace, pursuing the arts and spiritual enlightenment over centuries. He had no idea what he was doing. _

_It was dark, and being under a pile of robes in the corner was beginning to grow stifling, but Eruwen knew that it was her only chance to stay hidden if the looters opened up the closet. Her sister, though… Anhariel had piled all of the cover onto her younger sibling, and said that she would be okay. Eruwen was afraid. For reasons she could not understand, her home was being invaded by people who wanted to kill them. She sat, holding her sister's hand, tears beginning to pool at the edges of her eyes. From outside, they heard boots ascending to their floor. They were drawing closer. Any logical being would check the nearest room first… theirs. Anhariel squeezed her younger sister's hand, squinting tears out of her eyes. To think that her life could end in such a way, at the hands of barbaric, ignorant mon'kiegh, with so much of her life still ahead of her. Only nineteen cycles in age, she still had hundreds yet to be lived. She prayed to Isha that she would survive. "It will be okay, Eruwen. Just… just stay hidden, whatever you do," her voice was choked and fluttering as she tried to keep her composure for her sibling. If she broke down, there would be no hope of Eruwen not doing so as well. A thump traveled through their home, just barely audible. The boots stopped, and then continued past their room. Several agonizing seconds later, they heard an impact followed by a grunt of pain. Heavy footfalls echoed throughout their home, and they heard voices yelling. They could hear their brother and father as they tried to defend them. Bacaroth's voice roared above them all for several seconds amid yet more shouts and the sound of a shuriken pistol until they heard it skitter across the floor, and he fell silent. _

_Eruwen sniffled, her sister held her hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face. "We will be fine. Don't worry. Just don't worry. J—" She let out a cracked and choked sob, thankfully muffled by her hand. The mon'keigh were speaking in their guttural tongue. _

"_Look for any others! We'll make this bastard suffer." An angry voice seeped in through the door to their ears. More footfalls, some going to a farther away room, some coming towards them, resonated throughout the house. Shouts, a woman screaming… their mother screaming. A short struggle was followed by a sickening silence. Anhariel's mind was utterly consumed by fear. Aliens, barbaric monsters had invaded her home, destroyed her life, and were probably going to kill her if they found her, which was seeming more horrifically inevitable by the second. She leaned to her sister._

"_Eruwen," her voice came in a choked, cracking whisper._

"_Yes?" Eruwen still gripped her hand_

_The other footfalls drew closer. _

"_Whatever happens, do not come out until you are absolutely sure everyone is gone, okay?" She uncovered her for a moment, and drew her into a tight embrace, knowing that it would be the last time she would ever do so. Eruwen wrapped her arms around her sister's neck, holding her as tight as she could, the realization beginning to dawn on her as well, though her mind refused to believe it. Tears poured freely down her face, and she quietly sobbed, shaking. "We'll see each other again. I promise. I love you, titta selli." She knew that they would never see each other again in their current world, however. In fact, she hoped her sister would never have to._

_All Eruwen could do was cry into her sister's shoulder, trying to make their last moment together last forever. "Please stay," she pleaded into Anhariel's shoulder, her tears becoming absorbed into her clothing. _

_It was the most difficult thing she would ever do, letting go of Eruwen, breaking the last embrace they would ever have together. The only solace she found was in the fact that Eruwen might live. She smiled sadly before gently kissing her sister's forehead and covering her up again. The boots were in their room. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, her hand still holding Eruwen's through the pile of clothes that would hopefully keep her concealed. The footfalls were coming to the door. She had seconds left. Tears streaming freely down her face, what life she had lived flashed before her eyes. It had been carefree, peaceful and enjoyable when compared to the rest of the universe. It still did little to distract her from whose mercy she would be at in mere seconds. She could only hope that she would not suffer too much, the thought that she would likely die still barely registering in her mind. A final thought flashed through her mind. With her free hand, she reached to her neck and hastily removed the necklace she had been wearing before thrusting it into Eruwen's hand through the pile of clothing. Eruwen had given it to her a cycle before to celebrate the anniversary of her birth. Before the doors opened, flooding the space with light, the last image in front of her eyes was of that day she had been given the gift. She sat with her family, surrounded by nothing save for smiling faces and a bright, peaceful day as they celebrated, the smell of freshly cooked food wafting through the air carried by a cool breeze as they sat under the same tree that she and Eruwen had stood in front of for the pict that rested on the table in her room. She would cling to that memory for the rest of her life._

* * *

><p>He stood, a look of numb shock on his face, lasrifle hanging from his hand at his side. He was going to vomit. His rifle fell from his grip, clattering on the floor, followed by the pict he had been holding, whose frame shattered as it impacted next to his feet. He wretched, though nothing came forth as he hadn't eaten in some time. He suddenly lost his balance, his knees became weak. He had seen many terrible things in his lifetime, but what he saw before him disgusted and horrified him on a level he had never before experienced. He toppled backwards, landing hard against the wall next to the doorway and sliding down into a sitting position. Footsteps rang in his ears. She was coming. She couldn't see. He tried to call out, to tell her to stop but all that escaped his lips was a choked groan. He saw her as she ran down the hallway, hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword, covering the distance in a couple of seconds. In the interim, he held out his hand in her direction, trying to indicate for her to stay where she was. It was too late, however, and she arrived at his side.<p>

"I'm here! What ha—" She froze. A soft cracked whimper escaped from her helmet. She felt stifled, suffocated. She reached up and removed her helmet, before her arms slackened again, and it slipped form her fingertips, falling to the floor. Her eyes were wide, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sunk to her knees, weeping, staring in horror at what lay before her.

The rug was infused with blood; the man from the painting lay on his stomach, a weapon clutched in his hands. His long jet black hair was caked with coagulated and dried blood, the skin on his face slightly puckered from having soaked in it for so long. Blood leaked from his mouth, though it had since frozen in place, leaving a dark red trail from the corner of his lips to the blood-stained rug. The back of his robe, once a deep blue but now stained purple and red, had scorch marks in it from the lasbolts piercing through his unarmored body. Behind him lay his son. He too, was in a pool of blood, shot dead in front of his family with numerous black holes in his robe. In his hand was a knife. There were signs of struggle all around the area; tipped furniture, broken crystal, and blood stains on the walls. Not all of it had been from the man and his son, however. They had been mercifully killed probably within the first few minutes of their last, horrific experience. He at least hoped they were, so that they did not have to witness what he saw had happened afterward.

He clenched his jaw, holding back his gorge as best he could, though it was seeming to be a losing battle. The eldest woman lay on her back, her once pristine face bruised with numerous cuts on it from fists pounding her. The gown she had been wearing was torn open, and her undergarments had been ripped from her now beaten and exposed body and lay discarded next to her, some of the light fabric still looped around her ankle and hanging from her elbow. There was a black hole from a lasbolt in her throat. Radiating from it were flecks of red that had been ejected from her neck as she had struggled for breath, choking to death on her own blood. Her waist-length hair, naturally a deep red, lay tangled, knotted and torn around her head, stuck in the pool of blood that had formed under her after she had been shot once she no longer served a purpose to the vile beings that had so brutally violated her. Her arm was extended, and as he followed it he saw that she had been reaching out to her daughter, who lay inches from her fingertips.

She too had been violated, stripped of her clothes, chastity, dignity, innocence, and soul. Like her mother, through the smears of blood on her face were white trails of un-bloodied skin left by her tears. She had been beaten even worse as she was raped, massive bruises and lacerations covering her lithe body. She appeared to be the last to die; alone, her murdered and desecrated family around her in pools of blood, surrounded by brutal aliens that wanted nothing more than for her to suffer. He realized that what horrified him almost as much as the scene before him was that humans perpetrated the heinous acts. Somehow, he would have felt slightly less sick and revolted if it had been minions of Chaos, or Daemons that had done it. The evil his kind were capable of… was he as well? He rolled to his side and emptied his stomach of whatever was left, yet more of his soul leaving with it.

* * *

><p>As she had ascended to the floor above her, the aura she had been receiving went from comfort, love, and happiness to what she felt as she looked on at the murdered, violated and tortured people in front of her. She was almost able to see it, as if it were taking physical form as a black wispy aura that originated from the room where Andron sat. As she went further into it, it had become more and more stifling and choking, smothering her soul in blackness and pain. She could feel the suffering. It permeated through her body and soaked her heart and soul. She smelled it, tasted it, and heard it. Loneliness, despair, fear, agony, anger, sadness, all overwhelmed her, flowing into her mind from the surrounding air. She also felt disgust, contempt, hatred, and near mind-shattering rage. Whether those were emotions left behind being received by her spiritual nature, or her own emotions, she was not sure. There lay her people, tortured, murdered… raped… She inhaled a quivering breath through gritted teeth, her eyes cast downwards to her knees, tears quietly splashing on the floor. Her hair fell down around her face, casting a curtain around her vision, hiding the rest of the world from view so that all she saw was the floor and the liquid manifestation of her, pain.<p>

She wept, the pain and suffering she saw too much to bear. She had seen many things in her time as a warrior that were hard to bear; her time fighting Chaos, seeing suffering, both of humans and eldar, had had an impact on her though she was able to largely steel herself against them, and focus on what was at hand, largely forgetting them by the time she had a chance to dwell on them. Those atrocities, however, were at the hands of Chaos. What she saw in front of her was at the hands of humans. Pure evil given physical form did not disgust and repulse her nearly as much as what lay before her. The fact that it wasn't daemons, or minions of Chaos that were capable of this, and that it was humans... Normal, short-lived humans, of which she had slain many… Puny, filthy mon'keigh. She felt bitter hatred, rage, and pain well up inside of her yet more as she took in the scene straight out of hell that lay in front of her. She panted in quivering breaths through clenched teeth, her hands balling into fists and relaxing over and over again unconsciously. The sound of Andron vomiting snapped her out of the white hot inferno of fury that had been consuming her mind. Her head shot up, tears being catapulted into the air before landing around her, and she was staring straight ahead again. She quickly regretted doing so, and so turned her gaze to Andron. Her emotions turned to confusion. They had done such horrible things to her people, to her craftworld, yet she could feel his suffering. It was obvious that he was just as horrified as she was... or was it worse for him? To see what his own people had done, to have to face her afterwards, was probably killing him. She felt suddenly overtaken by guilt, and sadness. For an instant she had felt compelled to eviscerate him with her chainsword. Looking at him, though… she saw pain equal to her own in addition to regret, and guilt. She damned herself for forgetting. Regardless of what the rest of his race did, he was who she saw next to him. She had known, from the instant their fingers touched in that dark room, that he was not the enemy.

* * *

><p>He did not want time to move on. He dreaded beyond measure the moment he would have to look her in the eyes. His people did this… absolute unwarranted slaughter and torture inside of yet more of it that was consuming the craftworld. He rested his forehead on his crossed arms resting on his knees, and drew a long, forlorn sigh. He didn't want to be human anymore. He couldn't bear being part of all of the destruction, death, and pain he had seen. Inside he had always held resentment for what he was being forced to do. This even, however, brought it to surface. He had just walked through the home of a family just like… no; better than his own that he had grown up in. It had been peaceful, comforting, and the closest thing he could think of to a perfect place to live. Then it was utterly destroyed… by humans. And the dead family in front of him wasn't the only one. His mind was torn between obligation to his own kind, revulsion, and sympathy for those that died and the plight they faced at the hands of the Imperium. He would make right on it, whatever the cost, whatever that meant, he would redeem himself for the crime of being human. He took the first and most difficult step to doing so.<p>

"I'm so sorry," a choked voice, muffled from his face buried in his arms, broke the murderous silence left by the dead, silently screaming even after their lives were extinguished. A hand, gentle and comforting, rested on his shoulder. He lifted his head, and turned to meet her eyes, the effort straining his resolve. What he saw shocked him. The corners of her lips curved upwards ever so slightly, forming a sad smile on a face obviously wracked with emotional agony, tears clinging to her cheeks and the edges of her jaw despite her attempts to hide it.

"What have you done, Andron?" The question came out in as soft and delicate a voice as he had ever heard, the weight of what she asked conveyed as much through the forgiveness in her eyes as by her voice itself.

"This is all our fault. All of it," he half moaned half said. "We came, based on information that could have easily been shown to be false, and now we kill. It doesn't matter where we go… where I go. That's all we've ever done. Wherever we go, we destroy, murder…" he gestured to the desecrated corpses on the floor. "I never wanted any of this. If this is what we do to survive, then… what good is there in living?"

"You said 'we'."

He looked up at her, sadness forming his features into a mask of despair.

"You said 'we', as if you were like them, as if you would do this. I…" she looked down, searching for the proper words, before restoring eye contact. "I don't understand humanity. Despite having ruled the stars before your planet even evolved into insects, we understand little about your people. I don't know why they would do such things, or what and how they feel, but I understand you, Andron." Her hand traveled up his shoulder onto his cheek in a loving, comforting gesture; anything to keep them in their tiny bubble of peace together. "You are nothing like that. And the good that comes from humanity's survival…" her eyes fell downward before meeting his again "is that I have you."

He was a horrible guardsman by normal Imperial standards. Having a conscience, somewhat strong emotions, and constantly pondering and dwelling on the injustices he had seen throughout his time in the Guard made him what some would call weak. Where others would move on without a thought, he could do nothing but think. He never wanted to fight, and of course wished there was no need to. He was a just person. He would never do those things that transpired in the room in which he sat. He _could_ never do those things. The fact that he was a human being had nothing to do with anything, he supposed. It obviously hadn't stopped them from falling in love, enough so that she could see clearly through such a barrier even when faced with an event as horrific as the one they had just stumbled upon. He probably would have been unable to do so. He took her hand in his.

"I was nearing the end of what I could take. All that I'd seen, and done... It was becoming too much. You saved me," he looked up from their intertwined hands into her eyes. "You gave me something to live for again. You are all I have. I will never see my home again, have lost most if not all of my friends, and my life had been descending further and further into hell. You gave me something to hold on to. You _are_ what I hold on to," he half chuckled, half huffed. "I have nothing waiting for me back there except death and pain. There is no turning back for me. I passed that point the instant I lowered my rifle, but it was beyond worth it. They'll kill me if they see me, for being with you…. That doesn't matter to me, though. As I said before, I'd give my life for you. I owe it to you… thank you."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling as tears began to brim on the edges. It was odd, very odd, feeling such emotions in a place such as where they were, but it couldn't be helped. She leaned towards him, and they embraced, as much a comforting gesture as one of affection.

He looked ahead, surveying the room and just sighed; a long, forlorn sound that whispered through the air, carrying some of his pain from his soul. He leaned over and picked up the pict of the two girls he had dropped. To think how easily a life was extinguished. "We can't just leave them like this. What do you usually do for… the dead?" He gestured to the corpses.

"When we die, our souls are transferred into here," she tapped her soulstone, the gem glowing in the light. "We are then put into the Infinity Circuit. It is a network of souls that inhabits the craftworld. All that have died that we can recover are put there."

"What happens if that gets destroyed?"

Her mood darkened, and she cast her eyes to the floor. "Eternal suffering beyond comprehension. I can explain that later. Now we must honor the dead."

They stood, and arranged the bodies next to each other, arms folded across their chests. As Andron picked up the older daughter, he felt her cold, dead skin on his hands. It pained him to see anyone, let alone one barely out of being a child, suffer in such a way. He had closed her eyes before he had picked her up, and though it was only a small physical difference, the look of pain on her face seemed to have disappeared. She looked… at peace. He laid her next to her mother, trying to make her broken body as presentable as possible, though to whom it would be presented he did not know. The four of them lay next to each other, eyes closed, arms crossed, together in death. Hopefully, he thought, they could find some peace together. They covered the bodies with a large curtain.

Andron sighed, looking at the corpses. "Did you find their necklaces?"

"No." Her voice was forlorn, deeply saddened. Being consumed by She who Thirsts was the worst possible fate for an Eldar, and the poor souls in front of her would have to endure such a fate.

He stooped, retrieving his lasrifle from the floor. "We should go." It was almost as much a request as a suggestion. He knew they should, but did not want to push her in a time of grief. He turned to look at her, to see that she had her eyes closed, and was muttering something under her breath in her own tongue. He turned back to look at the bodies. A family lay dead in front of him. They had lives, friends, family… they _were_ a family. Loved ones would grieve for them, their lost futures, lost opportunities, loss of innocence. He had seen it plenty of times, but what lay before him was different. It was different in that it was the same. They were just like him… maybe even better. Death of those who did not deserve it was just that. What they were made no difference. No longer were they evil. They were the victims. They were people, too, and people. He closed his eyes, bowing his head slightly, and offered a small prayer for the deceased.

"Thank you."

He looked to her, and offered a sad smile. "Come. We should go, now." He lifted up his boot, making to take a step. An instant before his foot came into contact with the floor, he heard a dull thud. He froze in place, hand darting to his slung rifle, and listened. "Did you hear that?"

"We made sure it we were alone, though, didn't we?" Her hands were upon her weapons.

"The only people in here were us and them," he gestured towards the mounds under the curtain.

"Oh, Emperor's blood," he moaned as he sprinted to search the other rooms, oblivious to Aureleth's calls for answer. He burst into the largest bedroom, throwing open the first door he found within that room. It was a bathroom as far as he could tell. It was also empty. He ran into the son's room and threw open all of the doors there, finding nothing again except for a closet with several robes and leggings. The study had no place to hide, so he ignored it. He ran into the girls' room, and stood in the doorway. It was the same, nothing had changed. Towards the back of the room was a door leading to what he guessed to be a closet. He slowly walked across the room towards it, hand on the grip of his lasrifle. There was a chance, but he had no idea what he would be facing, so he took every precaution. All was silent. The only sounds were his breathing, his heart pounding in his head, and the soft impact followed by a near imperceptible squeak as he rolled his feet from heel to toe in order to minimize noise as he stepped. He arrived at the door, rifle at the ready with his right hand, and reached out with his left. Grabbing hold of the edge, he slid it on its track until it was fully open. "Throne of Terra…"

* * *

><p>She stared at him, her eyes a cross between wide with terror and squinting as tears flowed from them. She was huddled in the corner of the small closet, a small girl wearing a red and purple dress robe, her hair somewhat disheveled, some strands hanging off of her long, pointed ears that protruded through, a few locks falling over her face. He stood there, at an absolute loss as to what he should do, his mind a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, his lack of action only helping to build her mounting horror. He did not dare imagine what she must have experienced in the past hours, or days. A human child's mind is delicate, and he could only assume the same for the Eldar. For anyone let alone a child to have to witness or hear something as heinous as… It still hadn't occurred to him that he was a human and therefore striking terror into the little girl's heart.<p>

She began to cry, a sound he hadn't heard in a long, long time… at least not from a child, pressing herself into the corner as if she could fuse with the wall and escape. He quickly slung his rifle onto his back and kneeled down, reaching out to her. "Come here," he said in as calm a voice as possible.

She screamed, and with surprising speed only helped by his clumsiness in such a situation, dove through the space between his side and the opening, making to run. She was, however, only a child even if she was an Eldar, and he was a trained soldier. He spun around on his heel and caught hold of her, the strength in his arms easily overpowering someone of such a light frame, wrapping entirely around her. She screamed further, shouting in her own tongue, squirming in his arms, using her own to try to pry his away, but to no avail. He had never in his life seen such panic or terror in anybody. She acted as if he was Khorne himself. He knelt holding her, remaining physically impassive as he tried to figure out how to handle the situation, which he needed to do quickly as the girl's struggles were growing more frantic.

Her mind was a maelstrom of panic and fear, the only thought occupying its entirety being to get away from the mon'keigh that had grabbed her. They had come to her home, killed her people, and killed her family. Now one of them had caught her, and she did not dare imagine what it would mean if she was unable to get away. She would do everything in her power in order to escape.

"Hey, just calm d_— GAK!_" He shouted in pain as she sunk her teeth into her hand, enlightening him to the fact that Eldar had slightly elongated, and sharp, canines. A tiny part of his mind set itself to wondering how he didn't notice that given his previous experience. He sat on his haunches shaking his hand, the little girl seizing the opportunity to stumble for the doorway. He quickly lunged forward, scooping her up into his arms, this time with her facing him. The look of fear on her face, tears pouring from her eyes, rivulets being launched in all directions as she thrashed in his arms was painful for him to see. He tried to remember something, anything from his early childhood that could be of use to him, all the while holding a panic-stricken child that had shown she would go to any lengths to escape. A fleeting memory passed through his mind. It was more a set of sensations and a tiny snippet of a vision. He had felt comfortable, and safe. There had been a hand on the back of his head, and hands holding him as he buried his faces into someone's chest. It wouldn't work. There was no reason in the Warp that it would work. He tried it anyway.

He put his hand on the back of her head and, as gently as he could while still restraining her as she struggled, drew her in. He pressed her face, again as gently as was possible, into his chest, hoping that the girl's struggles would eventually cease.

She couldn't see, her face buried into the mon'keigh's tunic. It smelled of smoke, dirt, grime, and war. She pressed her forehead hard against him, trying to leverage her head free from his grasp, though it was to no avail. She continued, now blindly, to struggle against him, swinging her balled hands at wherever she hoped his face would be, though she could feel them missing or hitting his shoulders or chest. She was beginning to feel fatigued. After being in the closet for so long without food or water, her sudden surge of energy could only last for so long. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to die, at least, through a long and painful manner. She had nobody. She had witnessed something that her mind was still trying to, despite her protests, comprehend.

"_We'll see each other again. I promise. I love you, titta selli."_

Hopefully it would be swift. She was growing too tired to struggle. It would all be over soon. As the last of her energy was expended in fruitless thrashing, she resigned to her fate as best she could. She was thankful that she was still having difficulty wrapping her mind around what was going on, the ignorance truly being bliss. Her life neared its end as she panted, sucking air into her lungs, drawing her final breaths before she would rejoin her family. Her muscles slackened, and she fell limp in the mon'keigh's arms, resting her head against him, waiting, defeated. She felt herself descending before her feet met the ground, sliding towards her back, away from the man, her legs laying on the floor as he sat down holding her. She remained slack, no longer having any will to fight, merely wanting to be with her sister again. Sweat stuck her hair to her face, her perspiration a result of the stifling hiding spot followed by her frantic physical efforts. He still held her, and a tiny sliver of her mind noticed that he used no more force than he had when he was restraining her. In fact, was he using… less? She suddenly felt herself being rocked back away from him. Her pupils took several seconds to adjust to the light flooding into her eyes after they had dilated so much, and in that time she saw a bright haze with a darkened center. It grew clearer, and from it materialized his face. She was staring right into the face of a mon'keigh. She had never even seen one in person until that day, but found herself face to face with it. He had short hairs all over his face, and was covered in grime and cuts with tiny smears of dried blood dotting it. He was so… barbaric looking, completely lacking in the elegance she saw in her own kin. The fear gripped her small heart again, his further inaction winding her nerves, making them ready to snap. She was already thinking of resuming her struggle to escape. He reached up with his left hand, and began to move it toward her.

She had finally calmed down, and though she looked nervous, seemed to be out of her panic stricken state. She had green eyes just like Aureleth, he noticed. Her eyes were set in a somewhat pale face, among facial features that were quite soft, given her race. As they looked at each other, her face was a mask of resignation marred with fear, the fear slowly beginning to become dominant once more. Her hands were clasped together at her chest, fingers intertwined. She had struggled a lot, enough so that she was even sweating, a nearly invisible sheen on her forehead, causing her hair to cling to her face. One lock was falling over her forehead and ran down the middle of her left eye. For some reason, she presented such a pitiful sight, her youth in combination with knowledge of what she had been through touching Andron in a different, yet almost equally powerful way that Aureleth had. His job, they said, when he joined the Imperial Guard, was to protect those who couldn't protect themselves; the people whose hardships would be given to him, so that he may soak up their anguish and pain, allowing them to live in peace. What he was about to do was no different. He couldn't stop those horrible things from happening to her, but he could help her overcome them, protecting her from as much of the true horror in the world as he could. He realized that he had just committed himself without thought to protecting yet another "damnable" soul. He'd die before simply leaving the child in her current state, so he had no other choice. He reached out to brush the lock of hair from her eye. He moved slowly so as to not startle her into a fit of terror again, but as his hand moved closer to her, she shrunk away, squinting her eyes shut and gritting her teeth, trembling in apparent dread of their contact.

The mon'keigh was moving so deliberately. It was torturous, the suspense, having to wait through each second as if it were an eternity. She had no idea what he was going to do, but had absolutely no reason at all to suspect that it would not end in her death. Her entire family had been murdered by them. They were destroying her home. Why would this one be different? Even with her eyes closed, she felt the presence of his hand mere inches from her face. Despite almost looking forward to the end, a large part of her still feared it. She saw her sister again.

"Andron," The voice floated through the room, gently entering their ears. He looked to the doorway to see Aureleth standing there, her gauntleted hand over her mouth, her face a vulgar display of sympathy, pity, and horrible realization of what the girl's presence implied.

She had been frozen, frozen with fear, thought, anticipation, grief, and resignation. That voice, that single word, had shattered her trance. Someone of her own kind was with her. Maybe she didn't have to die.

The child's eyes snapped open, and she rolled back on her legs away from Andron, escaping his gentle grip with ease before scrambling backwards a few feet, panting heavily and then running to Aureleth, clinging to her leg.

He had nothing to say. What was there to say about such an issue? He knew what had happened to her, Aureleth knew what had happened to her, and they knew what had to be done without even giving it thought. Aureleth knelt down and allowed the girl to cling to her, her armor ironically providing much less inviting a surface than Andron's battle dress, though what was behind it was not alien and horrifying. She quickly descended into her previous state of terror, crying and repeating a phrase in her tongue over and over again between sobs. It pained him to see a child so traumatized as to go into a chaotic series of emotional eruptions.

Aureleth whispered into the child's ear, the words flowing off of her tongue like water as she spoke. The child calmed down marginally, and turned her head, still pressed into Aureleth's breastplate, to look at Andron. They spoke in their language, presumably because the little girl could not speak Low Gothic, so Andron had no idea what was being said, though he was confident that it pertained to what she would do, and her options.

"What is your name, child?" Aureleth's voice kept as soothing and calm as she could, which was nearly beyond comprehension.

"E… Eruwen." the girl spoke in a cracked, emotionally pained voice.

"Eruwen," she smiled. "A beautiful name," she managed to coax the tiniest of an upward turn in her lips out of her.

"Where are you going?" She looked up with teary eyes.

"We are going wherever we think is safe. Right now, that seems to be in the plains of Ildanesh. I know that this is incredibly hard for you, and nobody should ever have to experience what you are right now, but if you stay here, you will not survive for long. We can keep you safe." The girl looked up at her as she said "we".

"But that's… they…" she began to sob again, though not with as much force as she had earlier. The mon'keigh Aureleth said she would have to be with was just that.

"We cannot simply leave you here."

She knew. She knew that staying there would mean death. She knew that her only chance of survival was to travel with them. It would be hard, though, leaving all she'd ever known behind. She had no choice, though, and that much was apparent to her. She'd have to go with them, even if one of them was a mon'keigh. She looked up at the woman trying to offer her some kind of solace in such a grim, dark position and saw nothing but compassion, caring, and sympathy. Tears still trickling down her face, she offered a small, pitiful smile and nodded. It was her only choice, and she knew it.

"Do not worry. We will keep you safe. Now come, we cannot stay here much longer," she turned to Andron, who was gazing out a window from his position on the floor. "Andron."

He turned to her, acknowledging that he had heard her.

"We should go now. This changes everything, though."

He looked at the floor. "Yeah. I know…" He stood and retrieved his lasrifle, helmet, and backpack.

The girl turned to Aureleth "Can I… say goodbye?"

Aureleth was unsure whether or not she should allow the girl near what used to be her family. She had already been scarred and traumatized enough, and actually seeing the aftermath might be too much for her, even if the bodies were covered. She couldn't deny the girl the ability to do so, however.

"Yes, but… just leave everything where it is, okay?" She would not be able to take seeing them in their current state.

"Andron, I am taking her to say her farewells. We will be done shortly," she turned and escorted the girl to where her family lay.

Andron stood, and looked about the room to ensure that he did not forget anything. In doing so, he saw a blue glimmer on the floor near the closet's entrance. He stooped over and picked it up. It was a necklace. He placed it in his breast pocket with his accumulated mementos, a tiny sculpture, a piece of clothing, a small pict of two children, and a necklace. Not a single one of them had ever been touched by a human until he did so. He decided he would take just one more, for the sake of the child. Thankfully, he could fold it so that it would take up a negligible amount of space. He exited her room and made his way to the parents' room, looking to his left and seeing Aureleth standing behind the child. She knelt down beside the corpses, head cast down, the only sound in the house the sound of her tears impacting the floor. She shuffled forward on her knees and bent down, touching her forehead to each of her kin's. She did not move the curtain that covered them, keeping it over their faces. Andron stood and watched, yet another testament to the price of war playing out in front of him.

"I'll miss you," she whispered quietly, her head resting on her mother's. She wrapped her arms around her neck, careful to leave the blanket covering her face, and held her, running her fingers through her hair for the last time. She moved to her father, brother, and lastly, her sister. She appeared to be on the verge of breaking down again, and it was obvious that she had been extremely close with her sister. She did the same to her as she did her mother, her tears being swallowed into her sister's hair as she wept, leaving a piece of her to be with Anhariel forever. "We will be together again. One day…"

Andron bit back tears before turning his attention to the painting on the wall in front of him. He unsheathed his knife and carefully traced the inner edge of the frame, the painting falling free almost perfectly. It was of decent size, however it was made of a material that could be folded easily, and he made it small enough to fit on his person, carefully placing it in an empty ration tin before sealing it away and putting it in his pack. Memories fade. He knew that firsthand, barely remembering what his own mother looked like, knowing that he would never see her again. Protecting the child from the same fate as he was one way he could help her, as was his duty. He looked back to the scene unfolding in the great room to see her remove a bracelet from her wrist, and place it in the middle of the four corpses… her mother, father, sister, and brother. He had dealt with heavy loss before, but nothing that could compare to what he felt she must be going through.

In a quivering voice, she bade her final farewell. "I'll always be with you."

She stood, her hands balled into fists, head cast down, hair curtaining her face from view. Aureleth gently placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, before they began to walk towards the stairway. Andron followed, mindful of his distance to the child.

As he walked, he looked one last time at the four bodies. They lay in a neat row, covered in an intricately patterned curtain, a memento from their left behind daughter resting between them. She was more alone than he was, he realized. His family was likely still alive; he would just simply never see them again. For her, though… she had nothing save for two strangers, one of whom was the very thing that made her life take such a horrific turn in the first place. He sent them a silent promise. He would protect their child, even with his life. He would ensure that they could rest in peace, not having to worry about the fate of their youngest. He couldn't atone for the sins of his people, he knew that, however he would do what was right. It was the least he owed them. Andron turned and walked toward the staircase, descending to the floor below.

They exited the house, and continued once again towards the plains of Ildanesh.

* * *

><p>On the outskirts of a war-torn city, in an unmarked home in the midst of a world consumed in the fiery hell of war, lay a monument to the greatest of sins and the greatest of benevolences, silently screaming into the darkness surrounding that there was yet hope. In a sea of blackness, death, war, pain, and suffering, there were a precious few souls that would act for, and believed in a better world not only for themselves, but for all. From the ashes of lives sundered, fertilized with the bodies of the innocent, there grew light.<p> 


	12. To Plant a Seed

**I'm dedicating this chapter to Catherine Yao, a Junior at my high school whose suicide I was informed of as I was writing this. That's real tragedy. Rest in Peace.**

They walked several yards ahead of him, and he was mindful to keep his distance as the child, whose name he did not yet know, was still extremely nervous around him. She clung to Aureleth's hand, taking short, quick steps to keep pace with her longer strides. Andron's eyes separated from them and resumed darting back and forth, quickly scanning every window, shadow, crevice, opening, and potential hiding spot for any signs of danger. They had passed through six more of the concentric ring streets, and were able to just barely see where the city ended rather abruptly. Only a mile or so and they would be out onto the plains.

The din of war still echoed from far off to their left, and had grown slightly louder since the previous day, indicating that Eldar forces had possibly been pushed back by a small margin. He had no idea how an encounter with the Eldar militia would proceed, though he had no desire to find out. They would stay hidden whenever possible, their only goal being to get to the transportation hub in the south end of the plains. His mind returned to the girl. The mere thought of her plight filled his heart with pity and sorrow. To have one's life utterly shattered and burnt at such a young age was something that he would only wish upon humanity's worst enemies. He silently huffed; according to his superiors, he should have been wishing such a fate upon the two souls in front of him. His mind rode that tangent and found itself settling on a feeling of hurt. He felt remorse, and hurt at the fact that his mere presence put the girl on the edge of panic, and that the only way she stayed sane was by clinging to Aureleth. Why did he have to be viewed as something so horrifying, so evil? He meant no harm. He knew why, though, and the answer was extremely obvious in reality. He wondered if it was selfish of him to feel that way. He would have to make amends with her, somehow. It was not going to be easy — that much was evident. He noticed her steal a quick glance back, stiffen at the sight of him, and then lock her eyes on some point ahead of her, quickening her pace just enough so that he was able to notice. He sighed quietly. Scanning his surroundings, there were a few damaged buildings that he was able to see through the gaps between the homes they walked between. He thought he saw a few prone masses off in the distance, sprawled on the ground next to each other.

They passed through yet another alley before being dumped into another concentric street. It was at that point that they quickened their pace, so as to spend as little time in the open as possible. They were halfway across when a low rumble rolled over to their ears. It grew in volume quickly, and it quickly became a familiar sound to Andron. Valkyrie drop ships were approaching, and fast. Out in the open, they would be seen, and it was likely that a gunner would try to take a shot at the three figures running across an open space.

"Get to cover, now!" He began running, Aureleth following, the girl in tow, still attached to her hand. He had seen the girl's eyes widen with fear at his sudden activity, again reinforcing just how afraid she was of him despite his efforts to remain as neutral as possible. They sprinted across the road before he slid under an overhang from a roof with them quickly coming in behind him. The area of ground covered was small, so they were huddled quite closely together. The first Valkyrie screamed overhead mere seconds later, its speed likely preventing the pilot from spotting them. It was followed a split second by several more. They were not heavily leaden with weaponry, and were most likely scouts, as the sound of engines was still growing from the direction they had come. Several seconds later, almost a dozen, slow-moving dropships passed overhead. They were traveling slow enough to have seen them, and a gunner could have hit them had he fired. He held his lasrifle at his side, careful to not allow any part of his body to protrude from under the cover of the overhang.

A sudden realization filled her mind. He was right next to her. She could feel him against her arm, his dirty uniform scraping against her. She felt the heat radiating from his body, hear his breathing, and see his filthy, cut and calloused hands gripping the primitive weapon he held. Everything about him was so alien. He had hair on his hands, arms, and stubble covering his face. His ears were short and rounded.

_He was one of them_…

Her mind began to descend more and more quickly into a state of intense fear like she was seeing it for the first time again. She began to squirm, attempting to put as much distance between him and her as possible, small whimpers escaping her lips through clenched teeth.

He felt something pressing into his side, moving, accompanied by quiet whimpers and looked down to see what it was, though he was already thinking of how he would deal with what it likely was in order to avoid panic. He found himself staring, as he suspected, at the young girl, wriggling in between Aureleth and him, trying to get away from him. She stopped as soon as she noticed his eyes upon her, and stared back, frozen in place. He could honestly say that it pained him to see such fear of him simply because of what he was. Though he knew it was perfectly rational, and she had every reason to think he would try to kill her the first chance he got, it made him feel almost as if he were evil; something he would never even dream of. He reached out, his palm facing her in a passive gesture, and bade her to calm down. The instant he raised his hand, however, she yelped quietly and buried her face into Aureleth's upper arm.

Aureleth looked down at the cowering child attached to her shoulder before turning her attention to Andron, who simply responded with a sad smile and a shrug before resuming watching for danger. She turned again to Eruwen. That would not do. They would have to do something to foster trust between them, otherwise their journey would be exponentially harder if not impossible. She also felt sympathetic for Andron, to see him distraught over being seen as something akin to a daemon.

The only thing keeping her from sprinting as fast as she could away from him was that she was with Aureleth. Though the mon'keigh was still right next to her, she felt at least slightly secure with her there. She just wanted the human to disappear. She couldn't even dream of resting, let alone sleeping until it was so.

"They're landing," his ominous statement broke their bubble of silence, Eruwen's sniffling being consumed by the sound of jet engines winding down. They remained on the ground for nearly a minute, the sound of voices faintly reaching them amid the din of turbines before they spooled up again and the dropships took off. Andron followed the aircraft as they departed for the Plains of Ildanesh. "They dropped troops. We'll have to move extremely carefully now." He adjusted his grip on his lasrifle before continuing again. He stalked up along the alley until he reached the next street outward and leaned out around the corner of the house he was against. Several dozen guardsmen were making their way up the main road from the center of the city from the point at which they had been let off of the Valkyries. They appeared to be a strike team designed to deliver precise damage quickly. They would most likely be flanking the Eldar lines from their rear, which meant that they would go in the opposite direction he had planned to go himself once they reached the plains. He held his hand up, palm facing Aureleth and Eruwen, indicating for them to stay put. They waited several moments as the troops had advanced one street outward ahead of the trio before he decided it would be a good time to move. He whispered for them to follow as he sprinted across the street and slid to a halt, back against the front face of a home, rifle raised.

Aureleth picked up Eruwen in her arms and bounded across the street with speed that easily exceeded his own. She was beside him in seconds, and placed the girl on the ground before moving her hands to her sheathed and holstered weapons. They continued again, slinking into the alleyway and making for the next concentric street outward. They only had a few left until they reached the plains. The sun was beginning its descent, leaving several hours of light before nightfall. Shadows began to cast themselves across the alley. Looking to his left, Andron saw that the column of troops had cleared their row of houses and was breaking into two smaller units, one heading along the main road and the other turning left. They were no longer at risk of being seen from the main road, and Andron seized the opportunity to move farther away from them.

"Come on, let's go right," he indicated the alley that ran all the way down along the same path as the street, separating all of the houses' rear facing ends. They moved down past several homes, putting distance between themselves and the column of guardsmen that they were leaving behind. They turned left in between two houses and were about to make for the street when they stumbled upon a body. It was old, several days old, and whoever it was had most likely died at about the time the girl's parents had. Several events took place within the next two seconds.

Her family looked like… that? She had never seen a corpse before, and Aureleth had covered her family so that her last memory of them would not be one of horrific disgust. What she saw before her, however, though she knew it was someone she had never met, had their faces. It would take a long time for the realization that she was alone to set in, but the corpse in front of her only served to move it further. It was dirty, and bloody, its eyes glassed over, staring off into oblivion. She stared into them, and saw nothing. The corpse in front of her was absolutely empty. She remembered their soulstones… they were gone. They were truly gone, with not even the Infinity Circuit to go to. She couldn't bear seeing it. It was too much for her, all of the significance it had.

Andron had seen bodies more times than he wanted or cared to remember, so the one in front of him was no different. He realized too late, however, that to the child behind him, it was life altering. He heard footsteps. They came from behind him and off a short distance to his right. They were also from two different sources, one the light padding of small feet on the ground, and the other the staccato rhythm of the heavy boots of armed soldiers marching toward battle. He quickly turned around in time to see Eruwen run back in the direction they had come before turning left and running down the large alley that ran between all of the homes. They would hear her. He spun around on his feet and made to pursue her, but was thrown off balance by his pack as he tried to shed it, causing him to stumble into a wall as it fell from his shoulders. He quickly regained his footing and sprinted after the girl. They were getting closer. He prayed to the Emperor that she would not turn left and run into the street. She would be right in front of them, the best that she could hope for being a relatively quick death. He was gaining on her quickly, and was only a couple of yards behind her when, as he hissed through clenched teeth and felt his blood run cold, she turned for the street. He reached the rear corner of the home, using it as an anchor to slingshot himself around using his momentum as he grabbed it. It gave him just enough speed to reach her. His right hand covered her mouth as his left drew her in. He felt hot moisture condense on his palm as she screamed into it, thankfully muffled. Their momentum carried them within inches of the end of the walls. Anyone who had been looking directly at the alley from where the guardsmen were might have seen two barely visible shadows nearly engulfed in darkness cast by the setting sun and a few strands of hair floating for a split second past the edge of the wall before being whipped back to their owner as their momentum was depleted.

Andron spun back, the girl in his grip and molded with the wall, pressing as far into it as he could, quietly sliding back deeper into the shadows, the girl having gone from screaming to wide-eyed, silent shock, the occasional quivering intake of breath barely carrying through the air, her stomach pressing with oscillating amounts of pressure on his impassive arm as she straddled the line of hyperventilation. He could feel hot tears pooling along where his hand met her face before trickling down onto his wrist. All of her weight was being born on her stomach, his forearm pinning her to him. She was probably having difficulty breathing due to how he was holding her. They had advanced only a few feet back away from the end of their cover when the first guardsmen passed by the opening. Andron held deathly still, not daring to move a muscle. He could feel the child stiffen in his arms, her hands grasping onto his arm over her mouth. He saw that she was staring at the other guardsmen as they passed by, clearly at the end of her nerves in the presence of so many of his kind. They remained like that for nearly a minute, neither daring to move.

It was too much. She could not continue in the manner she was currently. She was being held by a mon'keigh again, his hand over her mouth, his arm crushing her against him making it hard for her to breathe. Only a few feet away were more of the savage brutes that had destroyed everything she had known. If she were to be seen, she knew she would die. Eruwen was simply overwhelmed by all of the stress she was experiencing. All she could do was hold still so as not to be seen. Through the dense fog that is fear that surrounded her judgment, however, she realized that while the mon'keigh that were passing by would not hesitate to murder her, or worse… her family flashed before her eyes again, the one holding her seemed to be different. He could have let her run, could have killed her, could have caught her and brought her to them. He hadn't, though… but the same beings had also brutalized and slaughtered everyone she loved. He always kept himself in front of them, she thought.

Andron exhaled as the last of the guardsmen passed by. He had been holding his breath for an excessive amount of time. As his lungs deflated, so too did his posture, and he slid down the wall on his back into a sitting position, the girl still in his arms, his hand still over her mouth. He had to be sure that she wouldn't scream when he let go of her. He tried the only thing that he could think of. He leaned in, his mouth close to the side of her head.

She stiffened as she felt hot air flow over her ear, accompanied by a hissing sound. The hand slowly began to move from her mouth, the arm around her torso also loosening. He wanted her to stay quiet. The arms separated from her, and she scrambled, though with nearly imperceptibly less vigor than before, away from him, her back against the opposite wall. She held eye contact with him for a moment, as he still sat on the ground. He sat, not moving, only staring back. She searched for hostility in his gaze, but was surprised and confused to find none. What was this mon'keigh? Why… Eruwen averted her eyes downwards. She heard the softest of footsteps to her right, and turned to see Aureleth standing in the alley with them. Again, Eruwen sought solace in her presence, running to her side and resuming her task of keeping Aureleth between her and Andron, her traumatized state showing itself through her expression and body language as her breathing slowed from a pant to its normal rhythm.

He figured that it didn't really matter what she thought of him. As long as he could protect her and that her fear of him would not get in the way of his ability to do that, Andron didn't mind. She had every right to be, he thought as he looked at what little of her head protruded from behind Aureleth's profile. He wanted to tell her what he had meant no harm, and hoped that she realized that as a result of his actions. They were losing daylight. They had to move. Aureleth broke the silence.

"The Plains of Ildanesh are nearby. If we move quickly we will arrive by sunset," she stooped to retrieve Andron's pack and handed it to him. They began walking, his balance slightly off as he adjusted it to fit him.

The monotony of walking through a war-torn city was ironically all that was keeping her from losing her composure utterly. It gave her something else to focus on, not allowing her reality to fully set in for the time being. She wanted to walk forever. The corpse she had seen was something that she knew would follow her to, or even beyond, her grave. She silently wept at the memory of her family's faces flashing before her eyes as she stared at it. She had never seen a dead person before. She had never needed to contemplate death, as she had always thought that she would have centuries of life ahead of her. With her current situation, however, the concept of death and the necessity of dealing with it came roaring into her life, consuming everything. She didn't know why the mon'keigh had attacked them, or why they were killing them, but it was the grim, dark reality of what might very well be the rest of her life. Her little bubble of happiness and peace was gone, incinerated in the furnace of war. She thought about the mon'keigh walking a few yards off to her right. She had tried to forget that he was there, but he kept making his presence known and not in subtle ways. She felt her skin crawl so much as to hurt when his hand covering her mouth as his arm wrapped around her stomach flashed through her memory. She again had thought that she was going to die, and again she had not. It was so confusing to her. She had seen her home destroyed, her life shattered, everything decimated by them, yet Aureleth allowed this one mon'keigh to tag along. Why, then? Why did Aureleth let it follow? Was it out of pity? Out of necessity? Why were they even running? She would have to ask her when she got a chance, she decided. Out of phobic habit she leaned forward and peeked at the human walking on the other side of Aureleth, she being the only thing that stood between them. What did it want if not for her to suffer?

Andron's mind drifted as they walked, the smell of foliage beginning to reach them over the buildings. It quickly returned to the previous night. He remembered, with vivid clarity, every instant of that event. Never had he felt so much happiness, so much passion, so much warmth… so much love. He stole a glance at Aureleth, the mere sight of her lifting his mood. Not only was she physically angelic, but her soul was just as beautiful to him. He then felt a pang of sorrow as he recalled how she had wept in his arms for so long. He could feel the pain radiating off of her as they held each other tightly, her head nestled against his chest and neck, their bodies and souls sharing every aspect of themselves with each other. Her tears had flowed down his skin, what he hoped to be her angst being taken with them. He was glad he had been able to be there for her as the thought of her having to deal with such a thing alone wrenched his heart. As he thought about it, he realized that she had had to do so for over a century. He then pondered the future, realizing that there was no way in the warp that he would, or could, return to the Imperium. He was stuck there. He would spend the rest of his life on the craftworld, be it sixty years or sixty seconds after the war was over and that was assuming that they survived _and_ that the Eldar emerged victorious. Those times would surely be interesting. He hoped that the Eldar were more open-minded than his own.

He jumped to another thought he had had that night. Had he taken advantage of her? Had he known her underlying emotions at the time he would have behaved differently, at least he believed he would have. What vexed him was that he did not know if he would have done so. She showed no signs of remorse or regret about what had happened, and she had made it obvious that she loved him, even in the face of what his kind were capable of, but he would still not feel content until he asked her directly. He felt eyes watching him, and turned to his left, looking roughly at waist height. Two brilliant green orbs quickly concealed themselves on the other side of the woman he loved, accompanied by a small, high-pitched gasp. The two smaller legs on the other side of Aureleth's stiffened. Andron leaned forward enough to see her with her eyes cast to the ground, biting her finger, her elongated canine visible as she nibbled on it. He chuckled quietly to himself. He had no idea how he was going to handle her. He would think of something, however.

Aureleth looked down at the orphaned child walking next to her. That development had greatly complicated matters. She and Andron could have held their own in a combat situation given that they both were warriors, however the addition of a traumatized child was a massive variable. She glanced at Andron, noting the forlorn expression he wore. He appeared to still be hurt after the preceding events, a lot having happened to them even given the scale of the war they were trapped in, and she could see that many old wounds had been opened, and many gauged anew in his soul. Seeing such horrors committed by one's own kind, and then having to walk with the victim who feared him as one would a daemon surely burdened him greatly. Every time Eruwen had shrunk or scrambled away from him in fear she could see that he was unable to completely hide his true feelings about it. Like a child trying to gain the trust of a stray gyrinx and being rejected, that natural reaction was only compounded by his knowledge of why she was in her current state. She would show Eruwen that Andron was not a beast to be feared. Not unless one meant harm to them. He would lay down his life for them in an instant, she knew. It touched her deeply to know that he loved her that much and was willing to go so far for her. He had already condemned himself to exile and death if he were to be captured simply by sparing her, and he had made it clear that he would have done nothing differently; that being with her made it all worth it. She smiled. She was infinitely grateful for the privilege of someone to confide in, and even more so that it was him. She turned her eyes to Eruwen and inwardly sighed. War had taken everything from her. She only had Aureleth. She hoped that Eruwen would grow to trust Andron. The three of them would likely only have each other for a long time to come, and there was no room for fear between her and Andron.

Her mind continued to wander, eventually falling upon the future. She had no idea in the slightest what they would do if they were to survive the war. If the Eldar won and they were not killed before that point, what would they do afterwards? How would she be seen, having fallen in love with a human? The warriors they had come face to face with in that home seemed to have been not necessarily approving, but not fervently determined to see them dead and destroyed either. She had no idea how the situation would be handled. It would be the strangest of circumstances, an orphaned girl, a warrior and a guardsman who was part of the force that had ravaged their craftworld. She had heard of human-eldar relationships once, on exodite worlds, so it was not unprecedented… she hoped that they would survive to have to worry about that. They would discuss it as they rested.

The sun was hovering just above the horizon, the view of space from the ground stunning. Due to the presence of an atmosphere that was just thick enough to have some of the visual properties of that of a planet, the sky quickly turned from a deep red and orange on the horizon to a darker purple before fading into blackness and stars as they looked straight up. The curvature of the dome above the city also lent an otherworldly appearance to the star around which they were orbiting.

The trio passed the last row of homes, finding themselves standing on a small artificial plain of white stone that merged seamlessly with the grassy fields of Ildanesh.

"Where do we go now, that way?" Andron indicated his right, the Plains of Ildanesh extending far off into the distance, green rolling hills glowing a slight orange from the deep colors of light being cast on them.

"Yes. We will be unable to reach the transportation hub by nightfall, however. We will need to find somewhere to rest. I would suggest that we distance ourselves from here, first."

"Well, no use in just standing here," he scanned the fields ahead of them. At least their journey would be scenic. He looked to his left, the black columns of smoke ominously rising above the hills a reminder of the reality of their situation. They began to walk, leaving a city, empty lasrifle cells, parts of their souls, and loved ones behind.

They had been walking for nearly an hour, the cool breeze keeping them comfortable though they could feel the temperature begin to drop. Andron and Aureleth scanned the hilltops and horizon for any signs of danger as Eruwen tagged along, still with Aureleth in between her and Andron. The only sounds they could hear were their footsteps, breathing, and the distant thunder of guns. A familiar sound made itself barely audible to Andron. It would be seconds before it rose to an earthshaking roar as the machines that made it soared overhead.

"Valkyries. Gak, we have to get to cover! There's no way we'll be missed out here," Andron frantically searched for anything that would block them from aerial view. He did not have to for long, however, as their cover came in a different, and moving form. From behind, as he was looking in the direction of the Valkyries, a small phalanx of Eldar interceptors screamed overhead on a path towards the transports, the thunderous roar of their engines shaking the ground and resonating in their chests.

Immediately, lasbolts and gunfire began spewing from the front and sides of the ships, creating a cloud of projectiles and ionized death between them and the fast-approaching interceptors. The incredible agility and speed of the Eldar craft, however, were easily able to overcome the Valkyries which were slow and lumbering by comparison as they rolled around the gunships' lines of fire. Brilliant white lances of energy drew instant paths between the nimble craft and their targets in sharp contrast to the red of the Imperial lascannons.

The leading Valkyrie was struck directly in its cockpit and exploded into a ball of fire as it was speared through and through by the scorching beam. Following its destruction, two gunships to either side of it were hit with glancing blows, streaks of their hull being vaporized by the Eldar energy weapons. One of the gunships was hit in an external fuel tank which combusted, engulfing the left wing in flames, ejecting debris forwards before it was sucked into the intakes on the front of the craft, shredding the delicate turbines inside and causing the engine to tear itself apart, weakening the wing enough for it to become shorn off of the ship entirely. It began a roll to the left as it pitched downward, impacting the ground with a massive thump followed by a great plume of thick, black smoke rising from behind the hill where it had crashed. A few pieces of debris skipped over the hilltop and came to a rest on the fields at its base.

The second Valkyrie that was hit received only minor damage and continued to fly as it returned with a salvo of lasfire in conjunction with a tight turn to keep a line of fire on its target. The Eldar aircraft was grazed by a red lance of energy and began to trail smoke before its attacker was destroyed in a hail of shuriken from another fighter. Two of the craft peeled off and gave chase to the other gunships who had continued on their course. Sliding into position behind them, airbrakes deployed in order to bleed off tremendous amounts of speed, they fired, shuriken pounding into the engine nacelles of the Valkyries. The gunships came apart mid-flight, pieces of them falling to the ground in a long trail as they spiraled into the fields below with dull thumps off in the distance as the only indication of their demise followed by black plumes of smoke shortly after.

"Throne of Terra…" Andron returned to a standing position, his lasrifle at his side. "Are you okay?"

"We are unhurt," Aureleth stood with a trembling Eruwen clinging to her legs and had placed her hand on the child's head.

"Some of them went in the direction we are headed. We will have to be careful as there is a small chance that someone might have survived. I don't want to rusk us being seen by anybody. Is there anywhere we can go that will keep us mostly hidden or are we going to have to simply run through the open?" Andron turned to Aureleth, hopeful that they would not have to remain in the open for their entire journey, though looking around indicated to the contrary.

"Unfortunately, no. We will simply have to use the terrain, and any differences in elevation to our advantage," She scanned their surroundings contemplatively, Eruwen still by her side.

Andron grunted pensively. Their trek would be dangerous, and they might even have to resort to moving by night if they were unable to outrun the front. He looked in the direction they were headed. They would cross near the crash sites of the Valkyries. Hopefully everyone would be dead or gone when they got there as he didn't want to be in a situation where they would be in danger especially with the child now in their midst. They continued, keeping a wary eye for any potential dangers.

They walked for a short time longer and came within what Andron guessed was roughly a kilometer of the downed Valkyries that had passed over them towards the hub. They had burnt themselves out mostly, only a barely perceptible orange glow being emitted from the area around them. They chose to rest in a shallow dip in the ground that was surrounded by small hills, a meter or so high, that made them able to stand without being seen from the surrounding areas. The sun had dipped below the horizon leaving only a dim orange glow for light other than the equipment that Andron had. He lay down, supported on his pack as Eruwen remained close to Aureleth against one of the small hills several meters from him.

He looked over to the girl, who snuggled into Aureleth as the temperature dropped to the point where her dress was no longer adequate to keep her warm. He had been issued with a small blanket roll, though nobody ever used it except for a pillow when they were not sleeping on their packs. He removed his kit and searched through it, drawing out the still rolled blanket that he had forgotten even existed until then.

"Here. For the girl," he held out the blanket.

"You do not yet know her name?" Aureleth was surprised.

"Well… no. We've been running or hiding ever since we found her. What is her name?" His mood lifted at the prospect of something that would help his efforts to befriend the child, who was nestled against Aureleth, starting to visibly shiver.

"Eruwen," at the same time the child's eyes and Andron's jumped to Aureleth.

He smiled. Even their names were elegant still, a far cry from his own which sounded clumsy and guttural when compared to theirs. He took what he hoped would be the first real step towards building trust with her.

"Eruwen."

Her name coming from the mon'keigh's mouth startled her, and her eyes darted over to him. He sat, the very last of the sunlight bathing him in a dim orange. His hand was extended, and her first reaction was to shrink away from it, even though there was nowhere to go to. Upon looking at his hand a second time, however, she realized that he was holding something. He was offering her something.

She shrunk away from him at first; again causing him to feel that melancholy pang of rejection he had become used to with her at that point. After a few tense seconds, though, she stopped her meek, and nearly comical if not so pitiful efforts in trying to become embedded in the shallow hillside behind her. He had her attention, and she seemed to not be on the verge of panic, so he continued his push.

"Are you cold?" He rubbed his upper arms with his hands for emphasis, crossing them in front of him. He felt like a fool, but it was all he could think of at the time. He offered the blanket to her again. "Here," he unfolded it, in case she didn't understand what he was holding. "I'm not going to hurt you, Eruwen." He looked to Aureleth, who smiled.

He was making some progress, she noted with a smile. She didn't want to interfere too much, though, so that their relationship would be almost totally created between them with little outside help and therefore stronger. She sensed that there might be a need for some intervention though, and she nudged the process along literally.

Eruwen felt a slight nudge on her back, very gentle but enough to be noticed. She felt herself directed slightly towards the mon'keigh offering the blanket to her. Aureleth trusted him, but…

He hadn't told her his name. Surely he would be more personable if she had a name to call him by. There was no seamless way to integrate it into their interaction, so he simply told her outright.

"Andron," she jumped the slightest bit at his voice breaking the silence. He spoke again, pointing at himself with his free hand. "My name is Andron." What was the mon'keigh saying? She couldn't speak Low Gothic. She was cold. The thought interrupted her suddenly, drowning out everything else she had been thinking. She regretted not bringing anything in the way of extra clothing with her. She was stuck, only one viable option available to her. She was nervous, but the fact that Aureleth encouraged her was just enough to give her the confidence to inch her hand towards his. She leaned forward, her legs crossed, hand held out to take his offering. As she drew closer, she kept her eyes fixed on his, looking for any signs of hostility of malevolence. Again, she was unable to find any. Did he really mean well? The only mon'keigh she had ever seen were the ones that… her mind seized up upon the memory, not wanting to revisit such a horrendous place. Luckily she was too preoccupied with more immediate issues to dwell on it for the time being. The haze of fear clouding her mind began to thin ever so slightly, giving way to understanding. She felt a scratchy surface on her fingertips, and stiffened at the sudden touch. Looking down at her hand, she saw that she had reached the blanket. She wasted no time in hastily taking it and retreating back against the incline opposite Andron, the offering coming with her. It itched and smelled of gun oil, smoke, and human, but it was warm, and she wrapped it around herself before leaning against Aureleth once again. Looking back at the mon'keigh, she saw that he had leaned back onto his pack again, and wore a large, warm smile.

It wasn't an outright declaration of trust, but the seeds of a bond had been sown and he would do everything in his power to ensure that they were not lost. He and Aureleth were all she had left, and he didn't want one of the two remaining people in her life to be an object of fear. He could never give her back her family, or her innocence, or her world that lay in ruins, but he could give her someone to feel safe near. It was the least he owed her…

Aureleth felt her heart warm at the sight of the first inklings of a relationship between the two. It was tiny, but it was there. Hopefully Andron would be able to cultivate it into a deeply rooted trust both for their safety's sake and their personal sake. She'd seen Andron's nearly hidden facial expressions, his reactions to her numerous rejections. He felt guilty, even though it wasn't his fault. She knew he only wanted to help Eruwen. He had only wanted to help ever since she met him. She smiled. There was not a single person she would rather be with than him, and not a single place she would rather be than their little bubble of serenity in the middle of the lush green fields of Ildanesh. She sat up from her reclining position against the grade behind her, careful not to disturb Eruwen who had immediately fallen asleep, and sat down again on the opposite side of their little pit next to Andron.

"You are a gentle soul, Andron Jarek," She leaned in, whispering the words into his ear so as not to disturb Eruwen. They were effective in being heard only by him, but as an unintended side-effect caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end and his heart rate to increase. She was not yet fully aware of the effect she had on the young human, though she knew very well how he made her feel. She heard him take a deep breath, and after a second's pause, he spoke.

"I can't fix it. I know I'll never be able to right what's been done to her, but the least I can do is give her someone else to confide in." He paused, staring pensively at the ground. "I still can't believe all of this… So many places I could have been. I could have not joined the Guard, could've been deployed elsewhere… I could have even been killed." He chuckled. "But here I am, in the middle of a field on an Eldar Craftworld having fallen in love with the person that nearly killed me years ago, with a child under our care. And why? Was it chance… or fate?" He sat and thought for a moment, unable to come up with any kind of answer. "I'm just glad that it happened, that I'm right here. I've had enough of war. Whether my people have or not is their decision, but I have had enough. I've felt that way ever since Auraxis."

"Do, _it,"_

_Andron's hands shake. He cannot disobey his Commissar._

"_B-"_

_He feels cold metal pressed against his neck, a circular imprint the size of his eye socket. He has no choice._

_His lasrifle is on full auto mode. He shuts his eyes, grits his teeth…_

He let out a long, drawn out sigh. Sometime during his flashback she had placed her hand on his shoulder. He smiled. She was still so timid, despite her superficial personality traits and their past intimacy. There was most likely a part of her that was still nervous. If the situation were reversed he would not have hesitated to wrap her in his arms. It ironically warmed his heart. "It all got me here with you," he drew her in, eliciting a small sigh of contentment from her. "I couldn't ask for anything better than that." He stared into her emerald green eyes glinting orange in the sunset. He really couldn't have asked for anything better than her. Together, they leaned in toward each other, and he softly kissed her on her lips, their warm, tender forms gently pressing against his. They laid down holding each other, sharing their warmth before drifting off into sleep in each other's arms, the very last of the star's orange glow fading into a cool blue light that dimly lit the still green Plains of Ildanesh.

**Sorry this took so long. Next chapter on its way, don't worry I haven't forgotten about you guys :D We'll get back to action (the killing kind) soon enough, probably within 2-3 chapters after this. Anyway guys, thanks for reading and please review.**


	13. Martyrs and Angels

**Again, sorry for how long these updates take, but i have a lot of crap going on. Anyway, I'll try to do them faster than once every 3 weeks, but don't count on it. I hope my taking so long isn't detracting too much from the story. I want to give a shoutout to A Drunk Canadian who has helped a lot in the development of this story, being my faithful betareader... though I haven't heard from him in a while, now. You still alive, dude? Also, a thanks and my eternal gratitude to AKissAndAGunshot for being the first drawfag (again, endearing term) to take me up on my request. GO TO MY PROFILE TO VIEW IT. Thanks again so much, dude. I'd like for his to be the first, not the first and last, so if any others want to do one as well, I could even start a gallery on my Deviantart profile (I don't do art, really, I just have one :P) or someting. Anyway, here's chapter 13. At 11,306 words it is my longest (In MSWORD it is, but on here 11 still has it beat, I dunno...) Still not much fighting in sight anytime soon, but don't worry, between now and the end, someone's gonna eat a lasbolt... or twelve.**

Andron's eyes slid open. It was still dark, the dim light of the night still illuminating their surroundings slightly. On the very edge of his hearing, the last echoes of a cry faded into the endless expanse that surrounded them. He carefully maneuvered himself out of her arms.

"Aureleth." Her eyes snapped open so suddenly that he almost recoiled slightly. She stayed laying down for a moment before turning to look at him, smiling before a look of slight concern crossed her face.

"Is something wrong?" She immediately looked to Eruwen who, to her relief, was deep in slumber.

"We… have a situation." A faint mixture of a grunt and a cry reached their ears, Aureleth reaching for her weapons in response.

He quietly lay down on the lip of their shelter, only his head protruding out of cover, and scanned their surroundings. The gently rolling hills were shrouded in shadows, areas of complete darkness bordering dimly lit ones. He saw movement. Just barely out of one of the shadowed areas, nearly a hundred meters away, a prone figure moved. His lasrifle snapped onto the source of activity, and he held deathly still. A soft grunt reached his ears, followed by rustling. The figure stopped crawling, and he heard a heavy grunt followed by a sharp exhale as whatever effort was being expended became too much. What he heard next sent a mixture of feelings, both good and bad, through his heart.

"Andron, it is a human," her voice barely traveled, it was so quiet.

"I know…" the implications were numerous and significant.

He had been crawling for hours. He didn't even know if he was going the right way. They had been hit so suddenly. All he remembered was the pilot shouting to brace themselves for evasive maneuvers, followed by the roaring bark of heavy bolters right next to his head as the Valkyrie lurched to the side to avoid incoming fire. After less than a minute of that, the side of the aircraft was torn open and the last thing he remembered before blacking out was the ground rushing up to meet them. When he had regained consciousness night had fallen.

His legs were all but unusable, he was sure he had several broken ribs, and he was bleeding. He most likely wouldn't make it, but a part of him was glad that he at least wouldn't have to explain to a commissar where he had been. If he survived long enough to make it to Imperial lines he would likely only have a cocked bolt pistol waiting for him. After trying to look ahead earlier, he had realized that his eyes had been damaged, and he couldn't see anything clearly even if it were closer than an arm's length. Everything was a blur. Exerting more effort, the gravely wounded guardsman continued his seemingly aimless crawl through the plains of Ildanesh. He grunted and panted as he exerted all of his remaining strength in getting… somewhere. He was tired, and when his foot caught on a rock protruding from the lush green grass, twisting his ankle enough to apply pressure to his leg, he cursed loudly. He was so exhausted, but he had to keep going even if it killed him. He continued trying to crawl, though he realized that he had most likely just reached his limit. He wouldn't dare admit it, or even utter anything resembling his true feelings, but he hated it. He was sure that any of his squadmates would have given anything to return home in the backs of their minds. When they lost that part of themselves, what were they then? As a servant of the God-Emperor, however, he had a duty to fulfill. For the sake of humanity, he had to endure what most could not.

"Gak," The word barely trickled from his mouth in the form of a whisper. It was a human. He was unsure how injured the person was, but there was little chance that the man would be cooperative. As soon as he saw that he was with two Eldar, he would try to kill them, and then he would have to kill the man, most likely right in front of Eruwen. In the several seconds that struggle would last, anything could happen. He was not willing to take that risk.

"There's nothing we can do." He began sliding quietly back down to his spot in the pit. He had only descended less than half a meter before he felt a hand on his vest.

"What do you mean by that?" She seemed almost hurt, or at least surprised at his sudden cold stance on an issue of life and death.

"He'll kill you. He'll try to at least. The instant he realizes who you and Eruwen are, the only hesitation between then and him trying to kill you will be the time it takes him to reach for his weapon. I am not going to risk you, or Eruwen," he pointed to the sleeping child, "for the sake of him."

"You would forsake your own?" He could feel an aura of sadness radiating from her. It bordered on disappointment. Why would she care about a dying guardsman who would see her burnt alive? How ironic if she felt more sympathy for humanity than he did, he thought. There was simply no benefit to risking all he had left for the sake of a random guardsman.

"In terms of what I would do for you two, that sacrifice is petty. Aureleth, I don't know how I became who I am, but I fear that I'm the only one, and that the only thing we can trust him to do is what they did to her," he again indicated Eruwen.

Aureleth cast her eyes to the ground. "You spared me. How were you so sure that I would not have killed you? Surely you had heard only the most horrific of stories about my people. I even… made to kill you as you lay injured, yet you still spared my life knowing that an Eldar had chosen not to do so for you. You are not like this, Andron. Y—"

"With you, I… I just knew. I was still afraid, yes, but…" He was unsure how to continue. The feeling had been so absolute, that there was no way for him to even put it into words. He felt not an inkling of that as he lay with her, looking at the dying guardsman in the distance.

"But what?" She pressed gently.

"I don't know. I can't risk you. I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to you or her. I'm going to keep that promise… even if it means this. I'd give my life for you. This is… It doesn't matter if he's human or not. I can't. I won't, not at your expense. I'm sorry." As he said it, he thought. What made him human other than his physiology? She had feelings, desires, loved ones, a life, hopes, dreams, fears, and everything that made him "human", and possibly even more. That man down there was only a different form of himself. They were all sentient, the only difference being that the guardsman would kill the woman he loved and the child he would protect without hesitation and do so while ensuring that they suffered simply because they were not like him. He would not let something like that near them.

She feared the possible outcomes of bringing in the guardsman, but in his apparent state, he posed little threat in her eyes. He could be handled if need be. She didn't want Andron to lose what made him so special. He was merciful. She remembered the pain she felt pouring out of him more fiercely than the lasbolts that ended the life of the guardsman in the abandoned home. He had done it to protect her. It was without hesitation, but in no way without sorrow. If he lost that… she would not allow it.

"Then what does that make you?" She gently yet somehow ominously asked.

The question struck him with the force of a Land Raider. "I…" He clenched his fists around his lasrifle, deep in thought as a debate raged inside of his mind. He stared intently at his rifle.

"Andron." His head snapped up and he turned to face her, the trance broken for a short time. "Remember who you are. I will leave this decision as yours." She slid back down into the pit and rested against the dirt wall next to Eruwen.

He looked back at her. He would never forgive himself if anything were to happen, let alone if it were his fault. Still… she trusted him. If she was willing to risk herself to preserve his… humanity, he would honor her wish. His lasrifle would not leave his grip so long as the man drew breath, however.

"Wait here." He slid on his stomach over the edge of the pit, lasrifle still in hand, and began advancing in a crouch towards the injured human.

* * *

><p>Someone was coming. He heard the footsteps in the soft grass, barely audible. He tried to prop himself up to reach his lasrifle at his side and take a firing position, however he was simply to weak to even move. So, he thought. This is it? He was going to die out in some field, not even having fired a shot in his final campaign. It was a poor way to end the life of a guardsman by any standard, he thought. Hopefully he'd be able to take the merciless fiend with him. He calmly prepared for whatever was to come, becoming immobile, his hand wrapped around the grip of his lasrifle, ready to exert whatever energy he had left into rolling and firing into his target. The footsteps ceased. They were close. A quiet whistle, one meant to grab attention… a human whistle, floated the short distance through the night to his ears.<p>

"Don't shoot. Imperial." The footsteps drew closer. "How badly are you hurt?"

He grunted, trying to roll onto his back to see who was there. "Really bad. I can't see. Who… agh… who are you?"

"Andron Jarek, 34th Kallidian. Just hold still, I'm bringing you back to camp. I got separated from my squad, though, so it's just someone else and I." Andron walked over to the injured man. His tunic was covered in blood. Chances were slim that he'd last through the night, but Andron would take the man in anyway. "Here, grab my arm."

He knelt down and the man took hold of his arm. His grip was surprisingly weak. Andron supported him on his shoulder and went to walk, only to hear the man grunt loudly.

"Can you walk?" He looked down, and the man's legs appeared to be badly damaged.

"No. I got messed up. Just drag me by my vest, it'll be easier." With Andron's help, he laid down on his back. A loop on the back of the neck of his combat vest would allow Andron to pull him back to their resting place.

* * *

><p>Her ears detected their return long before she saw them come back over the small lip into their little sanctuary. Aureleth had taken Andron's pack and placed it next to Eruwen in a way that made her appear to be only a part of a pile of gear under a blanket. She knew what the possibilities were, and if the situation took a turn for the worse, Eruwen would at least be hidden from view.<p>

"I need your help, A… I need your help," Andron caught himself. Even though humans spanned thousands of worlds, the name "Aureleth" would sound strange and alien to anyone. He decided he would not use it unless it was safe to do so. Andron laid the injured soldier on his back in the middle of their sanctuary before reaching into his pack, and noticing Eruwen's covered form next to it, and retrieving a lamp. He grabbed both ends of its cylindrical body and pulled, exposing a translucent red section between the two parts he had pulled apart. He twisted the lamp and it immediately cast a dull red glow across the immediate area, and illuminated their faces, obscured with stark shadows. He removed some cloth and other materials that could prove useful for medical purposes from his pack and laid them next to the wounded soldier. "His eyes are damaged. We'll wrap them with this." He tore a piece of cloth from the supplies that he had and wrapped it around the man's head, covering his eyes. "Could you see at all before?" He tied a knot at the back of the guardsman's head. As he leaned down to complete the knot, he got a good look at the soldier's face. He was repulsed, nearly horrified to find that the…boy, was barely into adulthood. He couldn't have been more than eighteen years old.

"Barely…"

"There's not much I can do about that. I'm sorry…" He turned to Aureleth, "Can you come here and help me with his tunic? It looks like he has a lot of damage here." Before she approached, he leaned toward her and whispered as quietly as he could, "He's just a kid…" She looked visibly shocked, her face becoming a mask of melancholy pity as it faded from her initial reaction. She nodded, however, and obliged kneeling down next to the boy and working off his tunic.

"Ah…" Andron sat and gawked at the young man's bloodied form, surprised he was still alive. He was still losing blood through his legs, which would have to be tended to immediately if he were to survive. "Hold him down. This is not going to be painless." She maneuvered herself toward his chest, and held him down, leaning down, putting her weight into restraining him. She looked back up to Andron and received a nod, and she braced herself. Despite her lithe and delicate appearance, however, she was exceptionally strong, and would almost certainly be able to restrain the wounded soldier with little difficulty. She had learned recently, however, that her life was full of surprises.

* * *

><p>He couldn't see anything, save for a faint red glow from the lantern that Andron had put down. He felt a presence right next to his head. Someone was there. That feeling was confirmed when he felt hands press down on his shoulders. As the unknown person held him down, he could not help but notice the odd feeling beginning to circulate through him. The hands holding him down were not gnarled. Against his bare shoulders they were slender, and… not beaten enough for an average guardsman. Why his mind wandered to such places he did not know, but he felt strangely comforted by whoever it was, and the pain that would have otherwise been flaring in his legs was but a dull throb as he let his mind drift on more pleasant courses.<p>

His legs were mangled, and all that Andron could do was wrap and splint them. The soldier would almost certainly not survive due to blood loss and likely internal bleeding, and though it chipped at his conscience, he was careful not to use a large amount of their medical supplies on him. He knew it would eventually be in vain.

The hazy fog of comfort he had been drifting in was suddenly shattered as a white hot lance of pain shot up his leg, continuing through his entire spine before exploding in his head. He cried out in pain, his neck muscles tightening, causing his head to rise suddenly. As he jerked his head forward, he felt it pass through a soft, light curtain. It split apart on his face, forming innumerable, silken strands that lightly brushed over his un-bandaged nose and cheeks before his head came to a rest once more on the ground. Through the pain so intense as to manifest itself as sound in his ears, on the edge of his awareness he heard a grunt. It sounded female, though. The hands gently held him down as Andron continued to work.

"I'm going to finish with his legs, but can you start mending his chest wounds?" He continued to wrap his legs in cloth taken from his tunic. He looked up at her and she nodded. She carefully retrieved some cloth from the supplies they had and set about cleaning and protecting his wounds, careful not to be too forceful.

He felt the hands depart from his shoulders, the warm feeling of comfort that had been growing inside of him largely fading. He was confused, as such a reaction made little sense to him. The pain in his legs grew from a dull throb to a pain that was bordering on acute. He had been trained for such things, however, and was able to keep from yelling out. He heard movement, and felt the person by his head move toward his abdomen. He gritted his teeth, preparing for pain to explode across his chest, however only felt light touches and pressures as his benefactor healed him. Despite the pain in his legs, he wouldn't have minded laying there for the rest of eternity. He was supposed to be fighting, dying, killing, but he instead found himself lying in soft, cool grass. The fact that he was unable to see and severely injured did little to detract from how he felt.

He was curious as to the identity of whoever it was patching up his chest. Though the chances were infinitesimally slim that he would be correct regarding his benefactor's gender, he had also learned in the past several hours that the unexpected was probably the most likely situation. He decided he would try his luck, his curiosity getting the better of him. He extended his arm up towards where he thought the person may be, his hand crossing infinite darkness towards an unknown target. He knew he was reaching in the correct direction as he felt the person's hair separate around his hand as he reached upwards. The faint radiation of body heat onto the face of his hand also indicated such. He was unsure what he was doing, and had no idea how he would explain his bizarre reactions if, Emperor forbid, he was wrong. That did little to stop him, however, for the vice of intrigue had grasped him tightly.

He was stopped dead, though, when he felt a hand wrap gently yet firmly around his wrist. The fact that he only felt one hand near his abdomen indicated that it was the same person. His breath caught in his throat, and he held still, his arm suspended in the invisible healer's gently grasp. Slowly, and with care, his arm was lowered and placed next to him. He couldn't see who it was, nor had he heard him or her utter a word, however he simply knew that it was a woman. That aura, that feeling that they could instill in any man was what he felt coursing through him. He felt safe. He was tired. It was likely blood loss, he knew, and there was a chance that he might not wake up. He was unable to bring himself to care, however, and let the sweet oblivion of sleep claim him.

After a half hour of careful medical attention, they had the guardsman as bandaged as he could be without using too much of their supplies. Thankfully his medkit added to the pool, and they were able to use little of their own. Aureleth and Andron sat back, and he looked to Eruwen who still slept under the blanket he had given her. He smiled. "Looks like he passed out." He reached out, tapping the young guardsman on the shoulder.

He stirred, his cheeks twitching, an indication of him attempting to blink vision back into his eyes as he was most likely unaware that the past events were in fact not a dream. His hands reached up and patted his face, testing its texture and discovering the wrap around his eyes. "W… in His name…"

"Don't worry, you're safe." Andron comforted him. "You're severely injured, but we did the best we could for now, so all we can do is wait. We'll move out tomorrow at sunrise and see if we can't make it back to Imperial forces," he lied. "So," he leaned back against the wall of their grassy pit. "How did you end up here?"

"I could say the same for you," he lay on his back, his hands on his sides due to his chest being in too much pain for him to put any pressure on it.

"Throne of Terra, I was separated from my squad once when they were all killed, and then again from the one I was integrated into as they died. Now I'm here," he manipulated the truth slightly, though it was still essentially what had happened. Andron simply decided to withhold the details that might sour the boy's opinion of him… he was unsure how long he could maintain such a ruse, however, even with the wounded soldier's eyes covered. "What about you?"

"We were part of a detachment sent to sabotage enemy supply lines. We were in Valkyries before the bastards intercepted us, and I woke up with my legs demolished and unable to walk. I don't even know how I survived." He sighed. "I saw them, getting torn apart as they were ripped from the cargo hold and slammed against the wings. Some were even dismembered on the jagged edges of the hole that was blasted in the side. It was bad…" He wouldn't have said any such things to anybody else, however with someone who was likely in the same position as he, in the middle of an isolated location, he felt little concern in disgorging his true feelings. He didn't care what he was fighting for, war was still hell. Every last one of them knew that in the backs of their minds.

"War was never supposed to be enjoyable. All that matters is that you do what's right if not necessary," he sat thinking about the immense significance of that comment unbeknownst to the injured boy before him. "Where are you from?"

"Phyrrha. In the Segmentum Pacificus. We're usually an agricultural world, however the Guard commonly recruits from our PDF forces. We've seen quite a lot... you?" He stared blankly up at the sky, his eyes still bandaged.

"I'm from Kallida, on the outskirts of the Segmentum Solar. I never got your name, by the way."

"Grohm Harkin. That's my name, but my squadmates always called me 'Prophet', or 'Cogs'. They said I thought about things too much…" He chuckled.

Andron laughed. He certainly would have qualified for a nickname like that. "You have any family?"

"What does it matter? I knew the instant I stepped foot onto that transport that I would never see them again."

"There's always use in having something solid to hang onto. That way you don't get lost. I have," or had… how could he know, light-years away? "A sister… I can barely remember her face and it's only been four years," he sighed.

"I know what you mean. It's only been a few months since I've actually deployed. It seems foggy already. But… it's my duty. No matter my thoughts, it's still my job. I've been trained to have unbreakable will, unwavering loyalty and dedication to His name… Still. Sometimes I can't help but think about it. I know what everyone else would do. I know what most of me says I'd do… but I'm not sure. Sometimes I wonder…" He pursed his lips and shifted them to the side slightly in a pensive manner.

"About?" Andron knew, but he just wanted the guardsman to acknowledge it himself.

"If duty is ever… wrong; if it can be misinterpreted or skewed… I wonder what I would do if I was faced with something like that." What he spoke bordered on heresy. He feared it. He tried suppressing his thoughts on such things, tried to just conform, do what everyone else did and follow orders. He did, however a stubborn part of him always contemplated his actions and decisions past, present, and future with a slightly different view. It troubled him deeply.

"I've found out." Andron's mind again drifted back to places he would rather leave unoccupied.

"Found out about what? What you'd do?"

"Twice." He propped his arms up on his spread legs, their knees bent upwards. "Duty? Or what you know is right? Sometimes you have to choose. Every once in a while…" he sighed heavily, "you'll find yourself wondering; conflicted between what is said you should do and what you simply _know _you must do. Not because of any training, anything you've been taught… it's simply something that, for the sake of a world with a little less suffering, you have an obligation to ensure happens."

"I've had that, at least," he continued. "You'll be presented with a decision, an opportunity, a test… it all depends on how you see it, I guess." He paused, his mind wandering before returning to the subject. "You'll have to make a decision. Most of the time you won't have that luxury, though. Mine was made for me. I still wonder, though… was it? I could have done… something. I did do something," his vision flashed red, the faces of those he'd slain that night burnt into his retinas, the color of lasbolts.

Had the boy's eyes been uncovered, Andron would have seen them rife with intrigue. "What did you do?"

"I failed. Someone, however, be it the God-Emperor Himself or the chains of fate, gave me a second chance. I did not fail that time," he looked over to his side where Aureleth sat, smiling warmly. At some point when he had been talking Eruwen had stirred and was watching from where she lay. Their eyes made contact and the pulled his field blanket up to cover her face and half of her eyes, peeking over it at him. He smiled. He supposed that there was no third time. There was no conflict at all in his decision to take her in. What did that mean for him, though? Had he lost his entire sense of duty, or had it simply shifted from the Imperium to simply doing what was right?

"What was it?" The injured soldier was heavily intrigued by the story.

"You may very well find out." Even if being face to face with an Eldar was too much for the boy, he posed little threat to either of them. He was still unsure about revealing her identity, but if the time came where he had to, or it was the right thing to do, he would.

The soldier grunted his acknowledgment. Then he paused for a moment. "Where's your squadmate?"

A pit formed in Andron's stomach. He knew it was inevitable. He knew that there was no way he could keep her existence a secret from him, even though he was unable to see. Aureleth looked to Andron, a mask of worry on her face. She did not know nearly enough about humans to pass for one. She would have to try, however.

"She's right here," Andron strained out, dreading what might come out of the next conversations.

"'She'? So it _is_. I've never met a guardswoman before." Much of the unknowns surrounding her were gone, now that he knew the reason for his odd feelings. Still, he could not completely do away with that aura of mystery that he felt surrounded her. Was there more, and he just had yet to find out what still evaded his comprehension? He wondered. Maybe he would find out. "Are you in his unit?"

She looked to Andron for guidance, and he nodded.

"Yes, I am."

Her voice was so soft, and just hearing it helped put him at peace. It was so different from any he had ever heard before, the Low Gothic given an elegant sound by the way she spoke it. He had never heard anything like it before.

"Your accent; what is it? It's very… pretty." He smiled a little at the fact that his concerns rested there at the moment.

Andron looked from the injured Guardsman to Aureleth and noticed even in the red glow of his lantern that her face was a slightly deeper red hue compared to the light itself. Andron was the only human she had interacted in any sort of a non-hostile manner and even though the Guardsman lying before her had no idea that she was not human, and treated her as such, she felt odd. It was not necessarily bad, but it was certainly strange. The fact that he complemented her did not help either, as only Andron had done so before.

"We are from different areas of Kallida," Andron stated. He decided he would interject when needed to keep the conversation from taking an irreversible path.

"Ah… that's become rare, having noticeable differences between people on the same world." Harkin shifted a little, getting more comfortable.

"Yeah, I guess it is. Is it like that by you?" Andron was genuinely curious despite the added weight of every single one of his words and their potential consequences.

"No. We're all Phyrrans, through and through. We all look just like me." He chuckled before being wracked by a short coughing fit after which he cursed. "I never got your name."

"When I first found you, you asked. My name's Andron Jar—"

"Oh, no. Sorry, I meant her."

Andron's blood froze. This could be it, he thought. If anything is going to reveal her identity, it'll be this… He looked to Aureleth, whose facial expression reflected similar thoughts, though it was overcast with one of calm as well. She did not seem too worried as to the consequences. She looked at him, and he returned her stare. After a second's hesitation, he quietly nodded.

"My name… My name is Aureleth," She bit the inside of her lower lip in anticipation of his reaction.

"Aureleth…" That name was so immensely different from any Imperial name he had ever heard before in his life as to be almost alien. Of course, such a possibility was ludicrous as they would have simply killed him had that been the case, and Andron was definitely human. The fact that there was even the slightest lack of absolute certainty that Aureleth was also human began to eat away very slowly at his resolve, however. He was still an Imperial soldier. It was a beautiful name, though, he thought. The harsh sounding Imperial Gothic punctuated by her name which flowed elegantly off the tongue, having an almost poetic quality to it was unsettling, though not necessarily in a bad way. "Aureleth… I've never heard a name like that before."

Andron gulped. Hopefully Harkin's note of it would only go that far. Looking at Aureleth, he saw that she was thinking the same. Though he was unarmed, the boy could certainly make a lot of noise if he decided to. The last thing Andron wanted to do was kill him, though he would in a heartbeat if it meant that they would be safe. A part of himself hated him for that, but most of him accepted it as who he was, and where he stood. He was in love, and one's devotion to love could easily rival their devotion to the God-Emperor.

Aureleth continued, choosing her words with care. "I suppose it is unique."

"Do you have any family, too?" the Guardsman asked.

Aureleth was at a loss of words. She was utterly unprepared to answer such a question. How could she make up an entire family, a _human_ family no less, on the spot? Her family was likely dead in the fighting, or what was left of it was. Old wounds began to open that she would address later. She glanced at Andron, who sat with a look of worry on his face. Every part of their conversation so far had been a careful dance around the truth, but they might have finally landed in an inescapable hole. She would try her best. Suddenly, she realized something. Looking at Andron, with Eruwen silently watching them over her blanket, she realized that she did, in a sense, have a family still. While it was by no means conventional, it had taken less than a week for her to grow a bond stronger than any she had ever experienced before with a man she had never realized she'd met before then. Then had come Eruwen. A lost, helpless soul that added further meaning to their bond, she reinforced the feeling that Aureleth truly had someone there for her, and that she could be there for. She smiled.

"Yes. I do," she said.

"They mean a lot to you, too?"

Gazing directly into Andron's eyes, a soft red glow cast over her features, she replied. "They mean everything to me. Without them to hold onto… I would be lost."

She had been looking directly at him as she said that, Andron thought. He felt his heart surge with emotions that had been long neglected until the past several days. He knew that she was everything to him, but for her to feel the same way, though not necessarily a surprise, he supposed, was still immensely powerful for him to hear.

Harkin grunted his concurrence. A few moments of silence passed, the gentle wind rolling over the plains and his breathing breaking through it. "Hey," he said into the night sky.

Aureleth and Andron were taken back into reality from their world together by his voice.

"Yes?"

Andron simply grunted.

"Thank you. I'd have died if it wasn't for you guys. I'm not much use now, and likely will never be again, but thank you. Feeling expendable wears you down after a while. It's… nice to know that some would still go out of their way for a dying Guardsman." He coughed before letting out a ragged, shaking sigh. He lay there for a few short moments before his breathing slowed into a deep, steady pattern indicative of sleep. Andron and Aureleth looked at each other, agreeing without words that they should follow suit.

Eruwen watched the entire scene before her from behind a blanket pulled halfway up her face, as if it would have rendered her invisible. The human they had brought was badly hurt. He looked young as far as she knew… younger than all the others by a noticeable margin. She wondered if he was a child. If so, they were certainly bigger. She had carefully watched, trying to keep as quiet as possible even though she knew that the human could not see. She was only just beginning to not be gripped by fear around Andron, so the addition of a second human was well out of her ability to handle. All she could do was sit and watch quietly, as if the blanket would make her invisible.

Andron felt eyes on his back, and turned around to see that Eruwen was still watching. She looked from Harkin to Aureleth to him, repeating the cycle numerous times. He inwardly smiled to see that she had his field blanket. Hopefully he could build on that gesture of goodwill. She was probably no less nervous having a second human around, the newcomer being a complete stranger, and he felt poorly for putting unneeded stress on her already fragile psyche. He added yet another tally to the list of things he would make up to her somehow.

He and Aureleth scooted back against the grassy sloped wall of their hideout and lay next to each other. He glanced to Eruwen to see her finish curling up under her blanket again.

"Andron," Aureleth's voice gently parted the silence that had been enveloping them.

"Yeah?" He turned to face her. She leaned in before finishing her question, and whispered it so quietly that it could barely be heard.

"He's going to die, isn't he?" The melancholy in her voice quickly enveloped him, causing his response to be identical in its forlorn tone.

"Yeah. Probably." He sighed quietly, putting his arm around her shoulder, having sworn that he would savor and make the absolute best of every moment he was by her side. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, her slightly greater height making her put more weight on him. He felt her move against him as she sighed. "What is it?"

"What is his age?" Aureleth wanted to know. He seemed so young.

"Why do you w—" She looked up at him. It was important to her that she knew.

"He looks younger than you…" She thought he was young. All humans were, really, but this boy… Harkin, could not have been even Andron's age, who was young even by human standards.

Andron sighed. It was always the young that fought and died. If there were more of them, they would be fighting, too. The only reason that there was anyone over thirty in the Guard was because of experience or necessity. He wondered what stage of life Eldar warriors were usually in. "He is. Probably nineteen. I'm twenty-two. In proportion to how far we are through our lives, though, both of us are older than you and he's just barely a man. Some might not even consider him that old yet. Even for a human, he's young to be fighting."

Aureleth fixed her eyes on a point on the ground. The minds of the young were fragile. Subjecting them to torment only attainable in war was something she wish never had to happen. She wondered what Harkin would be doing had he not found himself dying on an alien planet. She couldn't even fathom what one would do with so little time. An Eldar that died at twice the age of even the oldest normal humans was considered a tragic loss of youth. "I see…" The pain in her voice was evident.

"I was younger than he was, though."

"What do you mean?" She was already beginning to put the ugly truth together though, realizing that she had overlooked it in the past.

"When we first met… When we _first_ met."

She looked up at him, tears brimming on the edges of her eyes. Though there was no way that she could have ever known, it still brought her great pain to recollect those moments. She hugged him tightly, resting her head on his chest. She pitied Harkin for his tender age and having to fight, yet she had essentially killed Andron when he was even younger. When she was his chronological age, the most of her worries was finding friends and picking a path, which even then was not terribly urgent. It was just so horrible. Replaying the memory in her mind, she did remember thinking that he was very young compared to the other humans she had slain. A wave of comfort and warmth washed over her when she felt his hand rub up and down her back. She sighed again. "You were nearly a child." Her voice wavered slightly.

"I volunteered, though. I'd always wanted to serve. It was a dream of mine, I guess. I wanted to protect humanity, protect those who couldn't do so themselves. Before I knew it, I was just trying to survive. No matter what it's like going in, once you're there, it's all the same. The big picture, everything is forgotten. All that's on your mind when the rounds start flying is how you can keep from getting killed, so don't feel bad about it. We were only doing what we had to." He looked down into her eyes, the red glow of the lamp mingling with the deep green rings within. "You were scared too, weren't you?"

She knew what he meant. She had told him, though, that she was doing what she should not have done. Still, thinking back on it… she was afraid. There was always the fear. As she ran at him… she felt fear. She might have been in a blind rage induced by the death of her longtime friend, but there was still the fear. "Yes. Yes, I was," she said, still locking eyes with him. "And you were, too?"

— _Panic. He searched for a weapon, a rock, anything. She would be on him in a split second. He almost forgot his lasrifle was slung on his back. He quickly fumbled it into his hands._—

"Those were without a doubt the most frightening moments of my life. I was panicking. It's funny, though. In the back of my mind, there was a tiny part of me admiring the elegance with which you fought. We guardsmen move mechanically. We just get the job done. There's not much technique, only whatever works. We learn some stances, some parries and attacks, and the rest is up to us. You, though… there's just no comparison. It was like watching someone dance. It was mesmerizing. Terrifying, but mesmerizing nonetheless…" He squeezed her with his arm around her shoulder. "It's ironic, though, isn't it?"

Again, she knew what he meant without him needing to say it. Four years before, they had fought to the death as enemy combatants. Then they sat as lovers in each other's arms. "I suppose it is." She still felt sorry for what she had done, and the fact that she was aware of how horribly young he was at the time made her unable to help but voice it. "I am truly sorry."

"I know. I know. And I'll forgive you again and again. All I _can_ do is forgive you."

She smiled, a tear running down her cheek as she felt his other arm wrap around her. The amount of physical intimacy she had experienced in the past four days was more than almost the rest of her life combined. She couldn't begin to describe what it meant to her. To be held, loved, touched. While such things might seem insignificant to others, she treasured every instant of it with him. She closed her eyes and worked on ingraining every nanosecond of that moment into her memory. She felt the heat of his face against her ear, warming it against the cool night air.

"I love you, Aureleth."

They remained like that, Andron holding her graceful form tight in his arms. He ran his hand up and down her upper arm as she lay against him, his other arm holding her close. She was very lithe, his arm able to envelop her slender abdomen. Her hair flowed over her face and down onto is tunic, fitting to the contours of his clothing as it fell to his waist.

She closed her eyes, her entire world becoming synchronized with the slow rising and falling of his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat. His warmth gave her comfort that she had not until recently known existed. She would have given anything to remain like that forever. Her hand rested at her side while her right lay on his chest. Aureleth's mind was nearly consumed with bliss when she felt his hand begin to caress her shoulder. She buried her face into him, forgetting all of the terrible things they had been forced to witness, all of the horrors they were forced to endure, and all of the pain that war brought with it. All that was there was the two of them.

Andron gave voice to an inevitable but no less easy to address question, pulling her back into reality.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"Who you are… Who you _really_ are." He could see through the golden curtain of hair flowing over her face that partially hid it from him that she was lightly nibbling on her lip as she thought, a single elongated canine protruding from her mouth as she did so. They remained like that for several moments.

"I… do not know. What purpose is there in that?"

"What purpose is there in this? In _that_?" he asked, as he indicated the dull flashes of orange that were reaching them from the distance, followed by the low rumble of guns. "He seems kind. He seems like me, but he doesn't know who you are. What purpose would there be? I guess to find out how much we will be losing when he dies. Is he just another hate-filled drone, or is he…" Andron trailed off, looking to the stars. "Just another lost soul?" he muttered.

"When should I reveal it to him?"

Andron thought for several seconds. "Whenever you think is right. The decision is not mine to make."

Aureleth stared into the soft red glow of the lantern. Her decision would affect the both of them. Harkin was a human. He was one of Andron's people, no matter how loathe he had become to acknowledge it. The moral implications, anything that happened after she revealed the truth would affect all of them. What they took away from it would likely be with them forever. They had found themselves presented with a very rare choice; one with significant impact on whom and what they were, and what it meant to be so. Something as morally heavy as that could not be left to the discrepancy of one soul, at least not when there was someone so intertwined with her on a spiritual level sitting next to her. They would do it together. The crucible that would test values long forgotten would be held by them both.

"No. It is ours," she whispered as she lay on his shoulder. We are together, and we will remain together; through everything. This is not mine to make alone, either."

He smiled. She was even as wise as an angel. "Okay… okay. We should rest. Tomorrow will not be easy, either." He rested his head on top of hers, as she rested in the crook of his neck and shoulder. It was bordering on uncomfortably cold that night, but he and she had all of the warmth that they needed.

Several feet away, a dying guardsman just barely out of boyhood was about to be faced with a test bearing more weight than any he could have imagined trying him in his lifetime.

* * *

><p>A ragged, choking cough woke Andron from the bliss of sleep, and his hand darted to his lasrifle as he scanned his surroundings. He had left the lantern on. Its red light dimly illuminated their immediate area. That included the convulsing man who lay on the ground and the child who watched wide-eyed with fear hiding behind a blanket, quietly crying. He cursed, removing Aureleth from his shoulder as gently as possible while still moving as quickly as he could. She awoke, returning almost immediately into full awareness and rocked forwards onto her knees before crawling with Andron to kneel by Harkin.<p>

"Gak, where's the medkit?" Andron hissed, searching around himself.

Aureleth had been in between it and Andron and upon seeing it handed it to him.

"Thank you." He opened it and produced a vial with an injector needle on the end. While he knew that nothing he did would save Harkin's life, and would likely not even prolong it by much if at all, he could no longer bring himself to forsake the boy. He would not allow him to suffer. Harkin's convulsions were beginning to grow worse, and Andron and Aureleth had to hold him down in order to help him. His neck muscles were taught and pulling the back of his head into the ground. As he convulsed, it rubbed on his eye bandages, causing them to loosen. Andron took the lantern and placed it next to the soldier's arm to find a vein before inserting the needled tip of the vial into his arm. The cocktail of shock suppressors and other vital stabilization chemicals acted instantly, and the man's convulsions slowed over the course of one or two minutes before stopping completely. He let out a sigh of relief which grew even deeper as he felt Aureleth's hand on his shoulder. She knelt by Harkin's head, holding him gently as his breathing became more controlled.

Andron looked over his shoulder and saw Eruwen still hiding herself. He wanted to comfort her, but he had to tend to the dying man in front of him for the time being. Besides, he thought, the last thing she would likely want would be him moving towards her at a time like that. He looked back down to see that Harkin had regained control of his body. Aureleth knelt over him still, gently keeping him restrained, pressing his shoulders to the ground. He would likely die in minutes.

* * *

><p>He had died as he slept, and now he was… he wasn't sure where he was. It was dark, but comfortable. There was a faint red glow, barely perceptible through his wrapped eyes. He wanted to see. It made no difference now, he thought. He reached up and felt around his face for bandage to pull on.<p>

A look of worry crossed Aureleth's face as Harkin reached up to remove his bandages, though it only lasted for a moment. It would happen soon, she thought. What purpose was there in worrying, though? What would pass would pass. She knew not what would transpire in the next minutes, but faced that uncertainty, which was more intense than almost any she had faced before with confidence that no matter what happened, she would not be alone. She removed her hands from his shoulders.

It was so dark. All Harkin wanted was to be able to see again. He almost found an end to pull on to get the bandages covering his eyes off when he felt the warmth of gentle hands on the sides of his face. He froze, drawing in a breath. He felt them as they took hold of the edges of the bandages and slid upward towards the top of his head. The red light grew more intense, but it never got to an uncomfortable level. It was soft, and soothing. He opened his eyes and saw, against a red haze, a blurry figure slowly come more into focus, but not quite enough so that he could see it perfectly. He saw a head, the face obscured in shadows by the light coming from behind. He also saw the upper third of her figure… it was definitely a woman. She had exceptionally long hair, well into back-length. He could not see her face, for it was obscured in shadows. All he could see was its outline on one side, where the light was barely able to illuminate her cheek in a dim red glow. Her eyes glinted softly in the red lamplight, shining out of the darkness veiling her face. While such an image might have normally seemed sinister, he felt no such aura from it. The hands, delicate and caring, stayed on the sides of his head. He felt more at peace than he ever had been in a long, long time.

"A… are you an angel?" Harkin whispered, partly because of how weak he was and partly because of his want to preserve the atmosphere. Aureleth looked at Andron, who only stared at the dying man.

Aureleth smiled sadly. Death was never easy to witness. Even in the midst of battle, every person she killed, every Shrine brother or sister that she lost… a tiny part of her died with them. For that reason the Eldar had war masks; alter egos dedicated to war. It took incredible training to maintain one, however, and her time after walking the Path of the Warrior left her without a war mask. Her time with Andron was spent just like him. Everything she did affected her directly. There was no war mask anymore to take the pain. Harkin thought he was dead, and so she did not want to give even the slightest hint of hostility so as to not cause him to panic. She would be kind to him for his last moments of life. A part of her wondered if she was being selfish and was doing it only for her sake. She hoped not. "No. I am not."

Harkin was unsure what to think. All of his thoughts were beginning to grow cloudy. This woman wasn't an angel, but she certainly seemed like one. What was she then? He said what was foremost in his increasingly focused and small mind at the moment.

"Am…" he panted and then returned to normal breathing "I dead?" What was going on? If she wasn't an angel…

"No. You still live."

He was alive… It must be her. "A— Aureleth?"

"Yes."

They both saw him smile. Andron was beginning to feel more and more pain at the sight of Harkin's impending death. He was also beginning to harbor ill feelings for himself about his previous sentiments. He would have left the man to die… but the true test of his worth had not yet come. Only then would they know who Grohm Harkin really was.

Eruwen remained behind her handheld cover, watching the scene unfolding before her. How Aureleth was so comfortable around them was beyond her ability to understand, but she felt slightly less nervous with each passing minute. The humans felt sorrow for each other, and even Aureleth showed signs of such emotions. She could find none of the burning hatred, spite and rage that had become her only conception of them. The human was simply lying there, dying, and talking. She also noticed that he seemed comforted by Aureleth's presence. He was certainly different in his disposition from the others. He didn't seem as threatening, but that could have been because he was near death, and she may have really felt no different about him compared to others. She was unsure, though. There was a silent whirlwind of conflicting feelings, some fading while others slowly grew. She felt less afraid of him, but she still did not feel any semblance of trust for him. The only human she had even begun to trust was… she looked over to Andron and realized that she was in fact beginning to trust him. What she was supposed to think of that she did not know. Breathing through her nose, that odd combination of odors filled her nostrils again. It was alien, and had a hint of the smells of war on it, but there was a hint of a story of someone's life embedded within the concoction of scents. There was smoke, sweat, food, water… tears. She drew the tiniest bit of comfort that she drew from the nearby presence of someone else, regardless of who it was.

Harkin smiled. She was not what he thought. She did not look like a member of the Imperial Guard. She seemed so much more… elegant. Though he saw only a fraction of her in her entirety, it was evident that she bore an appearance and complexion far different from any normal soldier. She looked close enough to an angel, he thought. He knew he was dying. He could feel the life draining away from him. If she was the last thing he saw in his current world, he would hold no regrets. In fact, he wanted it to be so. There wasn't much time left…

Harkin spoke, but his voice quickly turned into a croak. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

Andron sighed heavily, turning to Aureleth. She returned his solemn gaze, the answer already clear between the two of them. He gave a shallow nod. She turned to Harkin who laid on his back still, his eyes fixated on her still obscured face either by darkness or the veil of ethereal golden threads that flowed around it. Most of the death he had witnessed had been brutal and fast, leaving no time for him to even think about it until much later, when the challenges that lay ahead left little to no room to mourn. Death, though it surrounded him, was in reality a foreign matter. The man in front of him was dying, not being killed. Instead of frantic screams, shouts, and gunshots all that surrounded the dying trooper were three people, two of whom were not humans. All that surrounded Harkin were lost souls and silence. Harkin's death was a slow ordeal, though Andron hoped it was not too painful. He lay peacefully, spending his last moments talking to someone who brought him peace. When the man next to him fell down, a cauterized las burn in his forehead, all that Andron would learn from his death was to keep his head down. The more time passed, the more weight was carried by their words. He would learn more each second from Harkin's death than from the hundreds he had seen right before his eyes prior to that night.

"Y…" she sighed. "I am afraid so." Her heart felt heavy as a ceramite slug, telling what was to her a child that he was going to die. During combat, one had little time to think of such things. Harkin had the remainder of his short life left to digest that fact.

"I—" he coughed again, sounding worse. "See." He let out a long sigh. It was time. He had only one desire at that moment. "Aureleth," his voice was hoarse. "You are a field medic. Would you give me the Emperor's Last Rites?"

Her breath caught in her throat. She had already committed herself to revealing her true identity, but the fact that the time was upon her was no less wracking to her resolve. She looked to Andron whose face was momentarily a mask of shock. He turned to her and in his eyes there was all that needed to be said. They had decided. She took a deep, quivering breath.

"I… cannot do that." Her voice was almost impossible to hear it was so quiet.

The dying boy's eyes darted to the silhouetted figure. Why? What had he done? Was he forsaken? Would he not even be granted a prayer at the end of his life for his service? All he had sacrificed… was it for naught? "W—what… what do you mean?"

He sounded as if he would burst into tears. It pained her so much to hear his voice. He was like a child being told he would never find happiness in his life. She had to continue. Hopefully the rest of what she had to say would help with his pain. "I, am not who you think I am." The moment where the real Grohm Harkin would show himself was fast approaching. Who would emerge from that veil was entirely unknown. They could only hope it would not be a decision that they would regret.

What did she mean? Was she not a medic? Why would she say something like that? "Then… who… are you?"

Aureleth squinted her eyes shut before opening them again. There was no turning back.

He saw her as she leaned in towards him. The warmth from her body radiated onto his exposed chest which had become uncomfortably cold. Was she to take him to death? Was that was she meant? Aureleth really _was_ an angel? He stared up into her eyes as she drew closer. She was within arm's reach. He still couldn't see much, only her veiled face and eyes. She came within arms' reach. He was contemplating trying to reach out to her when she felt her hands take his, her slender, delicate fingers cupping his own and bringing them up slowly to her face. The rest of the world disappeared. All that constituted his existence was himself, her, and that soft red light. He felt his hands warm slightly as they drew closer and closer to her face.

* * *

><p>She took his hands in hers, and brought them to her face. She would show him the most easily discernible trait of her people. There was worry in her heart, but it was accompanied by a sense of hope; hope that the dying man whose hands she held would be like the man she loved: free of the shackles of mindless hate and rage that brought nothing but suffering to all it touched. His hands were cool. He was fading.<p>

* * *

><p>His hands brushed her cheeks, and he withdrew them tentatively before she gently yet firmly held them on. They were soft, smooth, and though he could not see her face, he could feel its shape. It was marginally angular, her features feeling as if they were carved from marble by a master artist. It gave off an aura of power as well as one of femininity. She drew his hands up farther and back towards the rear end of her head. Her hair was light and flowed like water as it parted around his knuckles as they protruded through. As she moved his hands her hair parted further, allowing the light to illuminate her face almost fully. Her eyes were a brilliant green, her visual appearance reflecting what he felt earlier. Her eyes twinkled in the lamplight as the red glow reached them, and they held not a hint of malice. He almost saw worry mingling with the pity evident in her stare. She was beautiful.<p>

At the same time her face was revealed to him, his hands came to what he realized were her ears. A small voice buried in his mind questioned the purpose for such an act, but it was revealed to him as she moved his hands upwards. They were long, and pointed, and he realized that the silhouettes protruding from her hair were not hallucinations. His hands kept moving along them until he came to their pointed tips outside of the veil of hair that had largely hidden them. His breath seized in his throat.

All of the strange things he had noticed about her from her name, to her accent, to her not knowing the Last Rites… the final piece of the puzzle that was her true being was set. Why then? Why had she been so kind? She had shown no hostility, no anger, no evil, not a shred of malice the entire time she had cared for him. He could not think of any underlying scheme she might have had involving him. She had genuinely wanted to help. He began to weep, overwhelmed at the weight of what he was coming to understand. The way she had made him feel… he had felt safe, cared for, and felt as if he was more than just another cannon fodder. What did that mean about him, though? He was supposed to hate her, to kill her, and everyone like her. A voice in the back of his head was being crushed into nothingness. It screamed at him, told him to fight, to kill, to hate. He ignored it. He was going to die, and he would live the last moment of his life the way he knew he should have. He was not evil. He would not destroy what was not meant to be destroyed. In the seconds surrounding Aureleth's revealing of who she really was, he realized two things. She was an Eldar, and she was beautiful not only in appearance, but in spirit.

"Y… you're one of them." His voice was bewildered, yet contained no trace of panic or hatred as she had almost expected but dreaded.

Aureleth was unsure what to say. "I—"

"I think you are." He saw her look into his eyes, brimming with tears.

She turned her eyes up to his, the question spoken through them.

"An angel," he whispered.

She had been right. He was a good soul. Her heart soared with joy yet sank with despair as the facts that he was like Andron and that he would soon die collided. She quietly wept, his hands still on her face. She leaned close to his ear and told him the truth about why he was there.

"We did not attack Auraxis. We protected it. The Imperium followed us thinking that we had caused the devastation they found on the planet. They were wrong. The people had been terrified of us, but we committed no crimes. I do not know about the future of our people and what will become of us all, but right now, I can say to you that I have no ill wishes towards you. I see you as I see Andron. I wish I could do more, but I am powerless to stop the inevitable. I am sorry, Grohm Harkin." She would do almost anything to save his life, but it was hopeless. All she could do is made sure he lived on through herself.

He smiled at her. There was a light impact on his face after a tickling sensation ran down his palm. She was crying. He had to disagree with her. To him, she was an angel, and he would allow her to take him away from the hell his own kind had created and then thrown him into. As his breathing stopped and his vision turned white from overloading nerves, he saw many things. His mother, his father, his entire family stood before him. They smiled. Then, they faded into another vision. Grohm Harkin died standing in a world where there was no hate, no evil, no war, where Humans and Eldar could coexist in peace, not fighting, but living. It was more glorious than any legend or tale of the Imperium that he had been told. It was something he hoped they could one day come to understand. It was true peace.

Aureleth knelt next to him and silently cried. War had claimed yet another victim. Yet another pure soul had died for no reason. His eyes were open and he stared into the star-filled sky, a sad smile on his face. She carefully placed his hands on his chest before gently closing his eyes. She remained like that before feeling arms wrap around her. She felt Andron place his chin in the crook of her neck and shoulder as he embraced her.

He knew that there was not much for him to say. He whispered into her ear all that he could think of. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know," she whispered back. "I just… he was—"

"It's okay." He slowly rocked back and forth, his arms enveloping her slender body, her hands clinging to his arm that was around her shoulders.

Aureleth's war mask was gone. When Grohm Harkin died that night, so too did a piece of her.

* * *

><p>She sat, the blanket now supported by her knees curled up to her chest as she watched from the edge of the lamplight. The human had died. Aureleth wept for him, and the other human… Andron, she had realized his name was in listening to them speak, was comforting Aureleth. They felt sorrow for the dead man. Looking at his unwrapped face, she realized that he was much younger than Andron. He looked as young as her brother, if not even younger. She knew that humans did not live nearly as long as she would, which made him even younger due to how much faster he had aged in appearance. She had thought of her brother. Dark memories returned, and she curled up under her blanket in the dark, weeping for the dead. She wept for all of them.<p> 


	14. Second Thoughts

**Sorry I take so long with these, but you have no idea how meticulous I am with making sure it's the best it can be. I've literally spent ten minutes trying to find the perfect combination of words to improve flow, make it sound better, add more emotion, etc. Even little things like punctuation and where you interpret pauses in the sentences I can take time to decide on. I again apologize for taking so long, as three weeks is quite some time, however these are much longer than the ones I used to do in a week or few days. Right now, my rate is about 12,000 words per month. Speaking of which, as of three days ago, those of you with me from the beginning have been following this tale for five months. I thank you from below the bottom of my heart for your dedication, and I hope for another long, fruitful five months in the future. Anyway, here it is, Chapter 14 _"Second Thoughts"_  
><strong>

He had been wrong… very wrong. He almost wondered if it would have been less painful to have never known and let the boy… Grohm Harkin, die. They would never have known that one of the few good souls left in the damnable world had perished. Ignorance truly could be bliss. With a heavy heart, he thought about such things as he held Aureleth in his arms, still rocking gently, comforting her. Harkin was like him. He saw the world with eyes unclouded by blind hatred and indoctrination by an ignorant war machine. There was another, and even if it was only one, that meant that there could be even more. His resolve to find them still paled in comparison to his resolve in protecting the only two people who truly mattered to him anymore. A choked voice came from her, pulling him away from his thoughts.

"He knew, Andron. He was… like you. He shouldn't have had to die." She looked up over her shoulder, turning her head and then her body slightly in his arms, and he had to look into her sad, green eyes, tears pooling at the edges, following those that went before them down her cheeks. He took his arm from around her stomach, the underside quickly cooling to the ambient temperature after departing from contact with her, and placed his hand on her cheek. In a familiar motion, he brushed away a ponderously falling tear with his thumb, not breaking eye contact. She smiled sadly, placing her hand on his.

"I certainly agree with him," Andron said.

"In what way?"

"You're an angel to me." He hoped he could at least try to move her mind elsewhere. Seeing her upset pained him so much. He felt her cheek grow hot under his touch. All he wanted was for her to be happy again, but a part of him wondered if she had ever been truly happy after they had met, or even before. He would do anything to make that a reality, to usurp the darkness that loomed over them constantly, no matter how much they tried to shut it out. She turned around completely and pressed herself into his embrace, resting her head and hand on his chest.

"The thought of being alone in this terrified me," she said. "It still does, but having you with me..." the only way she could express herself was to wrap her arms around his chest. He responded in kind, holding her tight yet again. She found words to express herself. "So are you, to me." What had happened was likely too profound for either of them to fully comprehend, but a ringing message was heard above the rest: there was still hope. Aureleth voiced her thoughts.

Andron thought, still holding her. "There's still me," he said, the solemnity of his voice making itself heard despite his attempts to sound somewhat cheerful.

"Indeed there is." She sighed. "I couldn't live without you." She leaned off of his chest, staring up at him as he smiled. His face was dirty, his hair disheveled, and the stubble along his chin and jawline was beginning to take on length that put it past just a shade on his skin. Most Eldar would probably think of him as a barbarian, and even the most poorly groomed of her people that she had seen were comparable to the best-kept of humans. Even so, she was deeply, deeply attracted to him. She had known little of love and attraction before fate put them together, but what she felt for him was more powerful than anything she had experienced before. It soared in intensity above everything else. Aureleth was in fact madly in love with the man in whose arms she rested. Her feelings for him were only reinforced when she felt his lips on hers. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden intimacy, the feeling of his arms pulling her body to his coupled with the sensation of his lips upon hers made her mind run blank. After a few seconds she relaxed, beginning to grow more and more used to the idea and feeling which, despite the previous night's experience was still in a way foreign to her. She was growing to love it more and more each second she experienced it, however. Aureleth felt no pain, emotional or physical, their love for each other flooding their hearts with nothing but a want to be together forever.

The feeling of her soft lips against his threw his mind into a warm ocean of happiness, the two of them constituting the entire universe as long as they stayed connected. He held her to him, the graceful curves of her body contouring to his stomach and chest as his hands and arms explored her back. Her breasts, large, and soft even under the stiff mesh and lightweight plates of her armor, pressed into his chest. He felt intense heat radiating from her face onto his own as they kissed. They remained connected for several seconds before slowly, with hesitation, they pulled away from each other. Their eyes locked again, and they both smiled as they held each other. Andron spoke first.

"We should sleep. We haven't gotten much tonight."

Aureleth looked at the reason for their lack of sleep, sadness again creeping into her heart, held at bay by the after effects of their moment together. "Yes, we should."

Andron looked over to Eruwen, who appeared to be fast asleep, and smiled. He would win the little girl's trust. It might prove to be harder than fist fighting an Ork, but he would succeed.

"Will you lay with me?" Her voice took him from his thoughts. "It is cold." She blushed slightly, appearing to have a hint of trouble in maintaining eye contact.

He smiled and drew her in for a short kiss before they laid down, her back against Andron's front, her body fitting with his, in his total embrace. In his tunic, he hardly even felt cool, and he doubted that she felt uncomfortable in her armor. It was just as well, however. He reached behind him and blindly felt for the lamp before extinguishing its light. They were cast into comfortable darkness. Had they listened very carefully, they might have heard the occasional, almost imperceptibly quiet sniffle or whimper from under the blanket only a few feet away.

* * *

><p>Eruwen needed someone. Aureleth had always been imposing seeing as she was a warrior, and Eruwen felt slightly nervous around her, as any child would with a recently met stranger, let alone her life being shattered and Aureleth being a warrior. In her current state, approaching her with Andron right next to her was not an option. At least, she thought, they should be able to be happy together. She had already suffered so much; it wasn't like it could possibly grow worse for her. She buried her face into the blanket which was beginning to become saturated with tears where her face was. Why was she crying for a mon'keigh? They had done this to her. Still, watching the young man die was a terrible and strange experience. She replayed in her mind how he interacted with Aureleth. He had been blind, she was sure of it. There was no way until the very end that he could have known that Aureleth was in fact not one of his kind. There was no anger, no panic… he just let himself die peacefully, as if he no longer cared for living. As loathe as part of her was to admit it, it had torn at her heart to watch. She had seen the pain on their faces as the man died. They felt sorrow and sympathy for him. She began to realize that maybe she did, too. Her mind rife with conflict, trauma and agony, Eruwen quietly cried herself into an uneasy sleep, which did little to ease her pain.<p>

* * *

><p>Andron awoke to the far-off sound of an Imperial cannon firing. Holding still so as to not disturb the woman who slept in his arms, he examined his surroundings. The sun was about halfway above the horizon, a deep orange glow permeating throughout the sky before again fading to black as he looked farther up. They were still a day or so away from the transport hub. What would happen once they got there… he still had no idea. He decided he would worry about one endeavor at a time. He lifted his head and admired her as she slept, a look of serene contentment on her beautiful face. He reached up with his arm that had been holding her against him and brushed a lock of hair that had fallen in the night onto her face away. The slight touch caused her eyelids to flutter while remaining closed as she awoke. Her eyes opened, the shining green orbs taking in their surroundings before she angled her head to look up and came face to face with him. She immediately smiled, causing him to instantly do the same.<p>

"You look beautiful," Andron smiled.

Aureleth's smile only grew, becoming infinitely brighter to him than the sunrise illuminating the plains all around them.

They remained like that for several seconds before he leaned away to sit up, and she did the same.

"We are roughly a day's travel from the transport hub," she spoke, her voice reflecting that she was not yet completely awake. They needed to start moving. They could continue expressing their feelings for one another at a less urgent time. Her acute sense of hearing told her that the front had in fact moved closer. What the fate of the other Eldar forces on Yul'Te was she did not know, but the Imperials ran the risk of allowing themselves to be surrounded if they focused too heavily on the Plains. Whether or not the entire craftworld was engaged at the time was also a mystery to her.

"You should get her up," Andron indicated the sleeping Eruwen.

She knew that he was aching terribly to befriend the young girl, in the back of her mind knowing that he felt almost responsible for what happened despite her insistence to the contrary. Aureleth decided that she would try to help him in earning the child's trust.

"I believe you should," she said.

His mouth worked in small motions as he attempted to think of a reason, any reason, to not have to do so, but nothing came. They didn't have time for her to panic. She had grown less afraid of him, but he was certain that after the events of the previous night and the past days that she was still a long, long way from trusting him, especially enough so to not panic at him looming over her as she woke.

"Do not worry. You are gentle, she will come to accept you," she comforted him. She began to occupy herself with inspecting her chainsword and shuriken pistol. He was on his own.

Without a word, he approached the sleeping child before kneeling down next to her. She was curled up under the blanket he had given her. He made sure to not be directly over her, and tentatively reached out. As he did so, he was trying to decide exactly what he would do, and settled on a simple nudge to start with. She stirred under it, and he heard a muffled, soft grunt.

"Hey," He received only another meek grunt from beneath the cover, and a mumble in her poetic tongue. He couldn't spend the entire day trying to wake her, but his earlier concern of not inciting panic still stood strong in his mind. He reached out again and peeled the cover off of her face, exposing the side of her head and cheek. Her cheeks were red, as were the areas around her eyes. "E- Eruwen," he half-whispered. He gently shook her shoulder, and her eyes fluttered open. He thought he saw a glimmer of hope in them and with horror realized that she likely would think for a moment that the horrendous events of the past days were a dream as the last night was likely the first time she had slept since the invasion. His grim suspicions were confirmed when he saw her eyes scan her surroundings and she sucked in a gasp before beginning to whimper.

A glimmer of hope was stomped into oblivion inside of Eruwen's soul when she realized she was lying in the bottom of a grassy divot in the middle of the Plains of Ildanesh; an orphan. The entire time, a part of her had hoped that she was just stuck in the most horrific nightmare imaginable, and that it would pass as she slept. Now even that far-fetched shred of hope was gone. She looked to her left which, due to her lying on her side, was towards the sky. The human hovered over her. Fast, brutal snippets of the past day flashed through her mind, cruelly reminding her of all that had happened. She was again nearly overcome with grief. She made eye contact with the human, biting back tears, not wanting to shame herself by letting them see her cry again. Her sister would not have wanted her to cry; she would have said to keep going. It was just so difficult, though. She scanned his face, holding his gaze longer than she would have liked to, as she felt uncomfortable around him, still. He looked upset, and saddened. He retracted his hand from the blanket and leaned back, giving her room. He called to Aureleth.

"She's awake," He wouldn't press further, not as she tried to accept her reality, which most would rather die than come to peace with.

She looked over to him, seeing that he appeared to be nearly afraid to approach her. The child sat, the blanket held at her chest with both hands, her face turning a light red. She sniffled a few times, bouncing each time she did. Andron frowned. She wouldn't last long mentally if they couldn't help her. Still, their first priority was staying alive. He'd do whatever he could whenever possible, though. He approached her, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible, and knelt in front of her. She stood a few inches taller than he as he knelt. Smiling, he held out his hand. "I'm going to need that back for now, or would you like to keep it?" he asked gently.

Eruwen stood, the blanket still clutched in her hands right under her chin against herself. He wanted the blanket back. She was nearly ashamed to admit to herself that she had found comfort in it. It almost made her feel like she had somebody to hold her, to comfort her. Reluctantly, feeling an immense void in her heart that had partially filled grow empty again, she handed it to him. As he gently took it, she kept her fingers on it as long as she could.

He felt like he was taking a child away from its mother as he reclaimed his field blanket. It literally pained him to see the look on her face as she tried to hide her feelings. As he took it, he noticed that the blanket felt damp on his fingers. She had been crying. He felt a massive pang of guilt wrack him. While she had cried herself to sleep, he had been comfortably with Aureleth. Then again, he thought, what good would approaching her in such a state of mind have done? She still did not show many, if any signs of putting very much trust in him. They had to get moving. Though it pained him, he put the thoughts away to address at another time. First he would have to make sure that Eruwen was alive for him to apologize.

He finished packing the blanket into his pack, and stood. He turned to Aureleth, who was inspecting her greaves, ensuring that the mesh armor plates were secured. She stood fully and gave him a smile before nodding, indicating that she was ready. Her chainsword was at her side as was her shuriken pistol. He nodded back.

Eruwen stood, her hands at her sides, unsure what to do with herself. She was unable to fight, and so was only a burden to them. She half-shuffled to Aureleth, who took her hand, offering a warm smile down to the child. Eruwen felt slightly less lost with someone at her side. Aureleth was kind, she knew, but she almost felt as if Aureleth were lost as well, in a way. Eruwen squeezed her hand.

"What about him?" Aureleth's voice was quiet, befitting the subject of her question.

Andron shifted his eyes to the corpse of Grohm Harkin. He laid silently, his hands resting on his chest. He wore one of the most peaceful smiles Andron had ever seen. "What about him?" He walked over and knelt beside the corpse, which was coming out of the final stages of rigor mortis, coming limp again. He leaned over the man to remove his tags, but glimpsed something in his breast pocket as he was doing so. Andron lifted the flap covering it and carefully removed its contents. In his hand, he held a small figurine depicting the Emperor. It was bloodied, the fluid having long since dried into a dark red crust. If the blood was Harkin's, he would have cleaned it. He likely had to do some of the things Andron himself was forced to. He sighed, placing the visage of the Emperor in his chest pocket among the other significant objects he carried. He removed the young man's tags, and placed them in a dump pouch on his vest. Standing, he turned again to address the other two.

"We remember him; immortalize him through what we do. We know what he wanted at the very core of his being. It is also what we hope for. For ourselves, and for Grohm Harkin, we will survive. That's all we can do." He stooped and retrieved the lantern off of the ground, removing his pack and stuffing it inside before donning it again. The three of them shared a moment, preparing together for the coming journey. "Let's go."

The walked up the short slopes of the grassy pit, and continued their journey towards what they hoped would be a better chance at survival. In reality, they only marched deeper into uncertainty, and though they knew that, they continued on. They would survive. They would _live_.

* * *

><p>They had been walking for several hours. They had stopped a few times on the way to rest, if only for the child's sake. They traveled in the same manner they had through the city, with Aureleth in between Andron and Eruwen, and he occasionally felt eyes on him, barely catching her retreating back behind Aureleth when he turned to her. He took a moment to scan their surroundings. Looking around, all he saw were green plains, extending as far as he could see. He thought about the events of the previous night as he looked off to the horizon. He would have left Harkin to die. Harkin had said that he felt as if he was more than just another cannon fodder as he lay dying. He hadn't known that Andron had in fact thought of him that way. He grimaced. He had been at the end of his sanity when he found Aureleth. He wondered what he would have been like as he walked had he not found her. He quickly forced himself to stop doing so after only a moment.<p>

Aureleth's mind jumped between several trains of thought. In one was her plan of action once they reached the transport hub, the other contained her plans for a time farther into the future. She thought again about what they would do when... if, she frowned slightly, they lived through the war. She turned her head to look at the orphaned child who walked next to them, almost radiating nervousness. Her youthful face had a few small streaks of dirt upon it, proof of the physical hardships she had faced, though they paled in comparison to what she had experienced emotionally. Eruwen's eyes shifted occasionally from the ground to look at the horizon, sky, and she even sometimes curiously stole glances at Andron, peeking around her at him. She turned to Andron whose eyes were panning back and forth over the plains ahead and to the sides of them. She smiled. He was constantly watching, even though there was little if any chance that there was a single other soul anywhere near them. Her thoughts jumped back to their previous track. What would they do? She had thought of it before, but while it was a far-off matter, it was still of great importance. Could they start anew? Who could she even speak to of such a thing? She was still unsure, and likely would be for a long time, she thought. She set to planning what they would do once they made it to the transport hub. They could find someplace that was yet untouched by the war, or move to a stronghold. Only time would tell, and their options and destinations could change at any moment.

Andron's thoughts followed a similar path. He pondered the implications of their relationship and the possible consequences, arriving at a similar conclusion: he did not know. He looked at her and the child they had taken under their care. They resembled a family. The temperature of his cheeks rose a fraction of a degree at the thought. He smiled; the idea was almost surreal to him. He would do anything to ensure that they could live in peace, wherever that may be. Still, he harbored concerns about how Aureleth and Eruwen might be received by the rest of the Eldar for their association with him. Certainly their view of humans had been turned to nothing save for anger and, though he knew it was be in small quantities if at all, fear. The idea of having to leave them in order to ensure that they can live happily drove a red hot dagger into his heart, but if it was the only way, he would do so. He'd certainly seen people suffer worse fates. He then wondered if that was actually true. They simply died. He would have to endure the pain that losing them would bring, knowing that they, or at least Aureleth at that point, would feel the same. He resumed scanning the horizon, always watching, and ready to protect them with his life.

The walking had kept her mind off of everything. In it she had found a strange sense of numbness that helped keep her thoughts away from the horrors of the past days that she found out had in fact been real. The human was close by, and she could see the faint undertone of nervousness in his features as he scanned the horizon. Looking at him, her mind drifted to the past day, where he had pulled her back into the alleyway. She shuddered at the thought of the man grabbing her the way he had, jerking her back and covering her mouth as she felt she would be crushed as he nearly squeezed the air from her lungs. It had been so sudden; she'd been beyond terrified, fearing for her life. Then he just held her tightly as the other Guardsmen passed by. After that, he let her go. He had saved her life, and risked losing his in the process, as they surely would have killed him, too. Why had he done it, then? She was sure she had taken a moment before to ponder that question. All she could remember was that the answer had been unclear to her, as it was while she walked through the Plains of Ildanesh next to the only one of her people that she had seen alive in over a day, and one of the men who had invaded her home, and then saved her life from his own people while risking his. She began to feel more curiosity rather than fear when she thought about him.

They continued walking, the sun following its ponderous arc from one rim of the craftworld to the other, hovering over their heads, watching the trio as they walked onwards. While it would have been soothing at any other time, the silence was nearly suffocating them. All that was heard was the gentle plodding of their feet on the rich soil and vibrantly colored grass, as well as the wind as it drifted by, playfully tugging on blades of grass and wisps of their hair as it passed. It was by any standards a beautiful day, though a look towards the docks towards the bow of the craftworld indicated that it was in fact far from such. The smoke columns had spread. More were rising, and the smoke they sent into the atmosphere was beginning to drift. A low rumble in the distance was followed by the distant roar of a jet engine. Another small force of Imperial Valkyries was being sent behind the Eldar lines. Andron thought with distaste about how they would continue to do so, throwing men and resources at the enemy until they cracked, wasting countless lives.

"Aureleth," Andron hissed, as if shouting would reveal their position to the inbound craft.

She had heard it at about the same time he had, and was already searching for somewhere that they could hide. "I hear it." She uttered what he assumed was a curse as she resumed looking. There was nothing save for rolling hills and green grass in a 1 kilometer radius. They had nowhere to hide, and the drop ships were fast approaching. In the distance, against the blue and white of the sky dome blocking a portion of the star's radiation and light, Andron saw three black dots begin to grow in size proportionally with the volume of the still thankfully distant roar. They would be seen, as the Valkyries were low in an attempt to avoid Eldar sensors. They also could not trust that Eldar interceptors would inadvertently save them again.

"There's nowhere for us to go..." Andron was thinking at a frantic pace.

"Are you sure that they will turn from their objective in order to attack us?" Aureleth had seen human cruelty, and she knew that from a moral standpoint it was entirely possible. However the strictness of military code that they maintained might have been enough to stop them from doing so.

"Am I absolutely sure? No..." He spoke the vow he had made silently to himself and them. "But I will not risk either of you for anything. I can't." As he spoke, his mind revolving around the two he had sworn to protect, a sliver of a memory entered his vision. Eruwen slept, curled up under his olive drab field blanket, the fact that it was massively oversized made even more evident in the way it nearly enveloped her. He realized that it was their only chance. He quickly unslung his backpack, removing the blanket that would have been utterly forgotten to him had he not needed to use it the night before. He unfolded it, its area roughly the same as the amount they would take up laying down and creating as small a footprint as possible. "Here. If we hide under here we'll blend in."

She looked at him, almost incredulous. The idea sounded both absurd and brilliant at the same time.

He saw her expression and comforted her. "It's just like a camo cloak. There's an entire regiment that uses things like this."

The craft would be over them in less than a minute. There was absolutely no option other than for the three of them to huddle under the old and utterly unprotecting thing.

"Here, lay down." Andron tried to display as much confidence in his almost comical plan as he could.

Aureleth turned to Eruwen and whispered to her in Eldrish. The child nodded, and they both lay down, Eruwen nestled in the contours of Aureleth's body. Andron took one last look towards the incoming craft and estimated that they had thirty seconds before they would be over them. He threw the blanket over Aureleth and frightened girl and then, without thinking, lay down on the side nearest to him, which placed him face-to-face with the already shaken girl. Time, however, would not wait for him to address a concern that was petty compared to the present issue, and he drew the blanket over himself, covering the three of them. The blanket filtered a sizable portion of the sunlight, and what light did penetrate the fabric was tinted green. It immediately began to heat up inside, growing uncomfortable, however the light breeze finding its way into the space inside and circulating cool air negated some of the stifling feeling that was building up inside.

She felt like she was suffocating, pressed in between Aureleth and the human. Eruwen was face-to-face with him, closer than they had been even when he tried to restrain her in her home. The memory of home sent a pang of sadness through her before she resumed her thoughts. He smelled of smoke, sweat, dirt, grime, and even blood. She tried to keep her eyes fixed on a point anywhere other than straight ahead of her so as to avoid staring directly at him. She found her eyes drawn to his breast pocket. She noticed that it was quite full, and there were two imprints in the front face from the inside. She did not recognize one of them, which was most likely a representation of a human deity. She had learned little about humanity, though she did know about their fanatical devotion to their God-Emperor. She gave it little more thought, as it was likely because of who that trinket represented that her world was in a state of war. Her eyes flicked a few degrees to focus on the other impression. They then widened as she instantly recognized what she was looking at. It was a tiny figurine carved from wraithbone; he carried Isha with him. She swallowed, nervous at the implications of him having a piece of Eldar artwork, no less one that could be carried on somebody's person. Had he killed someone and taken it? Did Aureleth know that he had it? Her hands were clasped together at her chest, at the level of his breast pocket. She was drawn by the tiny effigy of Isha in the human's pocket.

The drop ships would be upon them in a matter of seconds. Andron looked straight ahead, into Aureleth's eyes. She smiled, as did he, and they held each other's gaze, reassuring each other without saying a word. He reached across Eruwen and placed his hand on her arm. His arm rested on the girl as she remained between the two of them. He could almost feel her trembling, but whether or not that was from her fear of the incoming drop ships or the fact that she was pressed against him was a mystery. The low rumble of the approaching ships quickly built into a deafening roar that shook the ground. As they passed over, the sound was so intense that he felt as if the physical force would rattle his teeth out.

It was the second loudest noise she had ever heard. As the Valkyries thundered overhead, her acute sense of hearing was pained tremendously. She was again terrified, her only protection a blanket. She screwed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as the shaking of the ground overpowered the shaking of her own body. Like screaming demons of ruin, they passed by. Then they were gone.

Andron had kept his eyes fixed on Aureleth's for the entire duration of the incident. They laid there for several more seconds, speaking volumes without uttering a word. In the almost equally loud silence that followed, he heard the sound of quivering breaths being sucked through gritted teeth. He angled his head down and saw Eruwen. She lay on her side, her eyes squinted shut, her hand clasped onto his breast pocket with the force of a power claw. He frowned sadly. The child was terrified, nearly hyperventilating. Out of impulse and his want to comfort her, he placed his hand on hers, engulfing her smaller, fragile hand in his. He almost felt as if she would shatter if he was not careful, which in a way was true.

Eruwen gripped the figurine as if letting go of it would mean death. Her head was buried into... she'd forgotten as the craft screamed overhead, the sound erasing her thoughts, but she felt slightly less afraid there; someone was with her. Some of the fear was taken from her, made not hers to bear any longer. It smelled of gun smoke, ozone, war, and someone else's pain. Eruwen felt a hand engulf hers, gently holding it to the human's breast pocket. Her eyes widened before she felt a wave of calm flow through her, and her breathing slowed marginally. Her mind clearing, her heart returning to its normal pace from the frantic beat it had been pounding in her chest, she took note of the hand on top of hers. It was gnarled, large, and felt grimy. It wasn't Aureleth's. Her eyes widened again and she gasped as she wriggled her hand out from under his, and rolled around to face Aureleth, holding her hands clasped at chest level, and thought about what had just happened. She'd felt the same as she always had when she was near him, but never before had she felt safe, or not afraid. Had she known it was Andron, or had she mistaken him for Aureleth? A voice in the back of her head that had been too quiet to hear finally grew louder than an imperceptible whisper.

He let the girl go, not wanting to push what little trust she'd given him, and swallowed the all-too-familiar sense of rejection he felt as she turned away. He looked back up again, to Aureleth. She was not familiar with children either; possibly, Andron realized, even less so than he. Still, he almost envied her natural ability to comfort the child. He assumed that the fact that she was a woman played a role in it. Even a deadly warrior such as herself, whom he had seen firsthand kill numerous people, could be as loving and gentle, possibly even more so, than his own mother. He hoped he hadn't gone too far with Eruwen. He knew that it would hurt him deeply if he were to completely alienate the child. When she had turned away, there was little sign of the near panic he had come to expect from her when they came in close proximity. He allowed himself an inward smile; he was making progress, he believed.

"It's been about a minute. They should be pretty far by now," Andron said just above a whisper. His voice sounded loud in the confined space they laid in. He sat up, the blanket rolling off of him, cool air rushing over them, evaporating the thin sheen of sweat that had begun to grow on their skin. He took a moment to enjoy the sensation. The sound of the engines had since faded out of earshot. He stood, as did the others.

"That was... an interesting idea," Aureleth mused.

Andron retrieved it from the ground. "Nobody said I had to sleep in it," he quipped. He finished folding it and placed it into his pack before securing it shut. "How much farther, do you think?"

She stood, peering off towards the horizon. "If we continue, we will arrive there by the end of tomorrow, I believe."

"If she gets tired, I'm sorry but I don't think I can carry her," he nodded towards Eruwen who stood, eyes fixed on something, sometime, or someplace far away.

Aureleth smiled, understanding. "I understand. Hopefully we can overcome that if not only for my sake."

"Well..." he gestured in the direction they needed to walk before the three of them continued, silent in thought.

* * *

><p>It was several minutes after they had started walking that Andron realized that the sound of the once far-off explosions sounded to be slowly approaching. He never thought he'd come to a point in his life where the sound of approaching Imperial forces would strike worry and dread into his heart. A second digestion of that thought revealed to him that part of him always had, due to their indiscriminate way of war. He turned to Aureleth and the child walking on the other side of her again. His mind drifted to his memories of years passed. It settled on that of the only woman... well, he thought, she had been only a girl at the time, he loved. They had had dreams of starting a family, buying a hab, and living a happy life together. He smiled a little at the memory. He tried to remember her name, but realized with a pang of guilt that he couldn't. Their relationship had been short, before he joined the Guard, and it would have fallen in the category of a typical youthful relationship, never meant to last, only to serve as a stepping stone as they tried to discover themselves. Maybe the fact that he could not recall her name was a sign, an indication that the first real love he had was in fact Aureleth. She had been the only one to stir those feelings within him since that girl those many years ago, but the intensity of those emotions was infinitely more powerful. She was like nothing he had ever seen before. Like the first few times he laid eyes on her, he was again lost in admiration of her angelic beauty. He smiled.<p>

He then saw Eruwen, plodding along next to her, a perpetual undertone of nervousness on her face. Andron thought about the event that had just transpired as they hid from the Valkyries. He'd looked down, and her hand had been on his breast pocket as she clung to him, of all people. He hoped his gesture of comfort hadn't ruined his chances of gaining her trust, but thinking back on it, she had not recoiled from him in a manner that showed panic. Rather, she seemed almost... embarrassed. He was making progress, he thought. Little by little, she was realizing that he was not like the rest of them.

Eruwen tried to keep her mind fixed on something other than the horrific reality she found herself in. She ended up deep in thought about what had happened as they'd hid from the Imperial craft. Why had she clung to him? It was almost painful, how much she was processing the question. She just couldn't see what had made her do it. Was it just the figurine of Isha? Then why had she buried her head into his chest? Her cheeks, just under her eyes, turned red. He'd saved her life, protected her, gave her that blanket when she'd been cold... she certainly had been cold, she thought. The only other humans she had met other than he and the other one had... she quickly stopped the train of thought. But maybe... maybe he truly only wanted to help.

Aureleth had seen what happened between Andron and Eruwen. How embarrassed Eruwen had looked when she turned away from him, eyes cast down, cheeks red. She smiled. The girl appeared to finally be growing more trusting of him. Aureleth knew how much it pained Andron, the rejection, and she'd seen it as they laid in hiding, that look of hurt. She looked at the child, who was padding along next to her, and appeared to be in thought. She would not force her to accept Andron. That was no way to handle such a thing. He would have to gain enough of her confidence so that Eruwen would come to see him the way that she did. The girl was afraid, her life decimated in an instant by humanity, but Andron made it clear, perhaps even almost too clear, that he would have nothing to do with them any longer. In time, she thought, they would grow a bond that would be just as powerful as the one she shared with him. The instincts of a father were strong in him, she could see. That ushered in a thought that had never really occurred to her before. They'd fallen in love, and then took a child under their care. That made them almost like... a family. She had always thought that her life would be spent consumed in following the Paths. Few Eldar were lucky enough to be blessed with a family, even if most did not desire it due to the ways of their society. Though it was by no means conventional, their love for each other was more than real. It surpassed everything she had ever experienced before, and their love for Eruwen continued to grow, Andron already proving that he was willing to risk his life for her. She blushed at the thought of performing the Rites of the Eternal Bond with him. It would surely be unprecedented.

They saw nothing save for the occasional flower, an insect, or other flora and fauna that punctuated the flawless green expanse. The breeze softly flowed over the plains, and had it not been for the faint rumble of war, or the pillars of smoke protruding over the horizon, they would have easily been taken for a family out on a leisurely walk, enjoying each other's company. They found solace in each other, but their journey was by no means leisurely. War was approaching, and they would have to avoid it if they were to survive.

* * *

><p>The sun was several degrees above the horizon, having yet to begin to hide itself behind the rim of the craftworld as the three travellers stopped for a moment. It was beginning to grow cool, the sky starting to darken and turn orange, purple, and red as its light was refracted by the atmosphere.<p>

"At this pace, we will be there by the end of tomorrow," Aureleth's voice eased its way through the silence.

"Should we rest? I don't see any chance of the front reaching us anytime soon." Andron could go on for much, much longer, but Eruwen was likely physically and mentally worn. She would need rest.

"Yes, I believe that to be the best course of action. Once we get there, we will likely not have much time to rest. If any other Imperial ships have made it there, then we will be facing much more difficulty than we are currently. We should take any opportunity that we have to do so." She was unsure if any other Imperial forces had in fact made it to the transport hub, or if there were any Eldar forces there. All that she was sure of was that if either was there, they would have to remain hidden, and that meant being constantly on alert. She worried, however, for how that might affect Eruwen. It would not be devoid of stress.

Off in the distance, a fifteen minute walk from their current position, sat a large tree atop a small hill, silhouetted in the brilliant sunset. It would be the perfect place for them to seek shelter. Andron pointed it out to Aureleth, who agreed with his conclusion. They would rest there.

They arrived atop the small bulge in the terrain, the shadow of the tree cast for a long distance behind them. Andron stretched and sighed as he removed his pack and let it fall from his fingertips onto the ground with a thud, the sound of buckles and other metallic objects clinking together accompanying it. He flexed his shoulders, back, and arms, trying to work out all of the cramps that had accumulated from carrying such a heavy kit. He turned to Aureleth, who was farther away towards the sun from the tree than he was, adjusting her armor likely to loosen the fit slightly to allow for more comfort. Preventing himself from getting lost again, he lowered his lasrifle onto the ground before sitting and going about removing what they would need for the night.

"Will you eat? We have some of my rations, and…" he removed a pouch of what appeared to be large seeds, each nearly the size of his thumb, "these. There's some other stuff in here, but I'm not sure if we have to cook it as I've never seen it before."

She had not eaten in over a day, and while she was trained to last longer without food, nearly relying on the sweet taste of victory for sustenance, she would not needlessly starve herself. "Yes, thank you." She turned to walk towards him, her back facing the sun before she stopped. She stood and watched.

Eruwen stood in front of the tree, staring at it. As she had approached it, the possibility she was coming to peace with had entered her mind, as there were not many trees situated alone in the Plains. Still, she'd had difficulty believing it. Part of that could have been because of the intensely bittersweet memories that it would bring back.

—_1 Year Prior—_

_Anhariel gasped. "Oh, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed. Holding the gift in one hand, she drew her younger sister into a tight hug. _

_Eruwen grinned, absolutely elated that her sister was so pleased with her gift. She returned the embrace. "I thought you would like it," she said sheepishly._

"_I love it, Eruwen. You're the greatest sister I could have ever wished for." They rocked back and forth for several seconds, basking in their affection for one another before and idea entered Anhariel's head. She took a knife from the assortment of utensils they had brought for the small party and returned to Eruwen's side. "Come with me."_

_They stood at the base of the tree, admiring its smooth exterior. Eruwen was curious as to what her sister was intending. It only grew when Anhariel handed her the knife. _

"_Put your name right here," she indicated a spot roughly at eye level. _

"_Are we—"_

"_Do not worry. It will survive," her sister reassured her with a hand on her shoulder. "This is a runewood, so its almost meant for doing this."_

_Eruwen raised the knife and after a moment's hesitation, carved the runes for her name into the bark of the tree. The wounds she had inflicted remained open for several seconds before she saw them begin to be grown over with a thick, darker material. She watched as the tree repaired itself, and her name became etched into it for eternity._

"_See? Now it's my turn," she received the knife from her smiling younger sister and did the same, etching the elegant runes that symbolized her identity into the side of the tree, right under her sister's. She then surrounded them with one large rune, its lines encompassing the smaller ones that represented their names. It stood for love. While their love was not the kind between their parents, it was just as intense, if not more so. She and Eruwen were as close as they could imagine themselves becoming, their sisterly love for one another burning as intensely as the star that illuminated their world. _

"_Now, they'll always know. You and I are together forever." Anhariel placed her hand on the timeless mark they had just created. _

_Eruwen placed her hand on top of her sister's, her fingers nestling themselves in the spaces between Anhariel's. They smiled, looking at each other with loving eyes. In Anhariel's eyes, Eruwen saw that she had meant it. Her sister wrapped her other arm around Eruwen's shoulders, and drew her in. She giggled, their hands remaining intertwined on their little act of love that would remain until the end of time._

Eruwen opened her eyes, and saw only her own hand through the tears that flowed freely down her face. She traced her fingers over the elevated bark that their carving had left. It was still there, just like she had said. Why then? Why had she been taken away? She didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore. Only a few days before, her life had been wonderful. She was reminded of all that was lost, all that she would never see again. She was reminded of the fact that she would never feel her sister's loving embrace, hear her jubilant laugh, see her shining smile ever again. The last she had seen of Anhariel was as she was torn away from her, tears in her eyes, trying to hide the petrifying fear that had been wracking her heart. As she stood in front of the old runewood tree, her hand placed on their names carved together, all she could do was weep.

Andron had turned around and was also watching. It did not take long at all for him to realize what was going on. He didn't even need to look at the pict that rested in his breast pocket to know where he sat. He felt nothing but pity for the poor girl, who was constantly reminded of what she had lost. Andron supposed that the uncertainty of not knowing whether or not his family was still alive could be a blessing. He had no reason to think that they weren't, so he did not worry much. Eruwen had nothing. All that remained of her life was despair, lost love, lost opportunity, and lost life. He wondered if she would ever be able to recover from such a thing… if even _he_ would have been able to if such a thing happened to him. He was tempered in the furnace of war, but a human mind… any mind, can only bear so much before it is crushed under the weight of hopelessness, agony, and sadness. He wasn't trained for the emotional aspect of war. All he'd ever been taught was how to kill and survive. Anything else was unnecessary. At least, his superiors would have thought so. At that moment he felt that being able to help her was the most important thing he could possibly do. Alas, he was just as helpless as she was in a sense, unable to stop her pain, unable to give her solace. All Andron could do was sit and behold the bitter, rotten fruit of his kind's labor. He clenched his teeth and swallowed, not remembering the last time he'd needed to do that. He didn't have the luxury that Eruwen did. He couldn't allow himself to break down.

Aureleth stood and solemnly watched Eruwen mourn for her lost loved ones, knowing that there was nothing she could do to end the child's suffering. She herself had lost a lot, too. As far as she knew, her friends, and family were likely dead as well, or locked in combat that may very well end their lives. She thought she would have been one of the few beings lucky enough in the galaxy to put war behind her. Even that, she thought, was too much to ask from an unforgiving, ruthless world such as the one they found themselves trapped in. War had come to find her, and it brought her back into its hellish jaws along with everyone around her. She quietly sighed, the sound barely escaping her lips. It was all she was able to do.

* * *

><p>The sun had started to retreat below the horizon, and the sky was a deep, brilliant mixture of orange and red that faded to purple and then black as one looked up. The massive orange orb watched, unnoticing of the lives being lost under its gaze. Eruwen's silhouette was a black figure against the slowly darkening sky, wisps of her hair being picked up and flowing in the breeze that continued to blow over the hills. The figure's head bowed, the hair forming a black curtain against the setting sun, and orbs refracting the light passing through them, shining like falling stars, descended from its face.<p> 


	15. Reaching Out

**Sorry I took so long, with the AP tests and schoolwork/preparing for my checkride (flying) and college (I'm going away on June 24th), I've been rather busy. This is still within my now kinda standard 3 week per chapter timeframe, so I hope you'er okay with that pace. I can make them shorter and update more often, or I can keep it as is. Please give me your opinion on that via PM or reviews. ALSO, if I have not mentioned this before, I will do so now. I want your honest, completely uncensored opinion on this, and on this particular issue more than any other I've asked for input on. Do you think I was too rushed in the development of Andron and Aureleth's relationship? Normally, chapters 8 and 9 or their counterparts in other stories would be around the end, or before a final big part at the end. Here, they're close to the beginning. Is there a problem with that? I'll make it work, either way, and have some plans on remedying that issue without retconning, however I'd still REALLY LIKE your input on that. Thanks again so much for reading, and chapter 16 might be a shorter one updated in a smaller amount of time. Please Review, and thanks so much again :D**

**EDIT... *hides head in immeasurable shame* So in my haste to get this chapter up I reall, REALLY f*cked up some editing issues and left some notes lying around within the text as well as some temporal (time) inconsistencies. I offer my deepest apologies for that, and I believe this is remedied, so if you want you can read it again and enjoy the nicer flow starting at the part where it's just Andron and Aureleth talking alone. Again, so sorry. **

**ALSO i am going to move this sumbitch along. Next chapter will see them to the hub, and from there it's gonna pick up. Prepare for a drop in mush, and a massive increase in the other kind of mush (smashed skulls :P)**

He stood, something in his soul compelling him to do so. Andron watched Eruwen as she mourned, the pain she felt digging into his heart as well. He felt a presence next to him, and turned to see that Aureleth had moved to his side. She wore a look of deeply saddened confusion, making him realize that she did not know of the pict that he had, and the significance of where they stood. He reached into his breast pocket and removed it before handing it to her. She took it, holding it with care as if a slip of her fingers would make it turn to dust.

She received the pict from him, and what she saw in it wrenched her heart. In the exact spot where the grieving child cried, stood that same girl, even more youthful and innocent, and her sister, who Aureleth had not seen until then. She was strikingly beautiful, and she was glad to have a vision of the young woman other than the horror she had seen the day before. She held her sister, wearing a lovely smile that made her eyes shine as bright as Eruwen's had been. She lowered the pict, and saw only loss in place of the happiness she had been staring into only an instant before. Aureleth had been a warrior, but… the horrors of war had never been so close, so personal. She felt a touch on her fingertips, and the pict slid from her hand. In her peripheral vision she could see Andron placing it back into his breast pocket. His other hand took its place on hers, and he held it tight. They stood and watched, knowing that not a single thing they could do would be able to surmount such a massive personal tragedy at the time.

"Had I known that this is what I did when I killed…" Her voice was barely a whisper. She knew not how many men she had slain, and most of them were Andron's age. Sons, brothers, fathers, friends… she'd butchered them. She had her war mask so that she would not have to live with it for the rest of her life, but it haunted her still. She tried to remember what she had felt as she had killed. Fear, anger… sadness; those were the emotions that coldly grabbed at her conscience once again as she ventured towards that blackened region of her mind. What she believed in, what she wanted for herself, Andron, and Eruwen, was exactly what she had destroyed thousands of times before in her life. She had a horrific realization at that moment. War was inescapable. The instant she stepped off the edge into the hellish abyss of war… There was no turning back. There never was. War would find them, and it would do everything in its power to strip them of who they were, what they had, and what they'd become. Even something as powerful as their love, which she believed to be indestructible… even that could be challenged. War consumed all. All they could do was avoid it. Getting sucked back in would mean losing everything. One did not have to be shot, stabbed, or crushed in order to die in war. Everyone died. The person that stepped off the ledge never comes back. Whoever returns is another being entirely, one that has experienced horrors that none should ever have to. Sometimes there would be shards of the old left, but it was only a matter of time until they were lost completely. The thought absolutely terrified her, possibly more than anything else in her life.

"We did what we had to. What they did, though…" He could not even finish the sentence, unable to find words vile enough that would not drive men mad to know. He thought about what he had just said. They did what they had to do. He lamented so much that he had done, and even as he carried out those acts he'd known that they were wrong. Still, he had done them anyway. Why? Silence was his answer. Silence from his heart, his soul, and his mind. There might not even be an answer, he thought.

"It will be nighttime soon. We should prepare for tomorrow," she paused, casting her eyes to the ground, feeling guilty for seeming unsympathetic to Eruwen's life-destroying plight. "We have to be ready, as I do not know what will await us once we arrive there. I will see to her," she indicated Eruwen, who had since sat down against the tree, her head resting against it directly under her and Anhariel's names, and was staring off towards the sunset, her face red and shining with tears. She approached the child, leaving Andron to go about preparing himself for the day ahead, which largely consisted of trying to convince himself that they stood a good chance at living.

Eruwen was close with her entire family, but the relationship she'd had with Anhariel was something special. The bond they'd had was like nothing she shared with anyone else. She clutched at the only memento she had left of her beloved sister. The necklace… It wasn't there. Eruwen's blood turned to ice, grinding away at the inside of every last inch of her body as an equally cold lump formed in her stomach. It was… gone. How had she forgotten it? Anhariel's tear-covered face as she gave it back to Eruwen flashed before her eyes. She had lost it. She had lost her. Eruwen was pounded by despair with the force of a meteor, her mind running blank, utterly consumed by the horrific grief she felt. There was nothing. Her only connection to her past life, where she had lived in peace with those that she loved was gone. The one thing her sister had given to protect, she had lost. Eruwen could no longer stand, the unthinkable realities that had become her life beginning to take hold. She wanted nothing more than to see her sister again, to hear her voice again, to be held by her again… she felt colder and more alone than she ever had before in her life. She was too encased in grief to notice Aureleth take a seat next to her. She felt a hand on her shoulder, the first contact she had had with someone for… for too long. Aureleth's voice was quiet, and despite the futility of trying to comfort her, Eruwen found that it took away the tiniest sliver of the pain she felt.

"Eruwen…" The only time she had dealt with death had been in combat, and even after that, her war mask had taken the pain for her. Having to sit down and face such things on a level as personal as required in Eruwen's instance would be something she'd never done before. She was unsure if she could be of any help, as even though she wanted to think otherwise, her mind was still that of a warrior, and she was unsure if she would ever be able to fully remove the reins of war from her soul and be free of the emotional prison that it created. Eruwen continued to stare at her feet, peering at them over her knees with her hands clutched together at her chest though there was nothing there. Eruwen's already deep sorrow was only compounded by the loss of Anhariel's pendant, but Aureleth had no way of knowing that, as its existence was unknown to her. Aureleth realized with deep sadness that neither she nor anybody would have any words that would ease the child's pain; there was nothing to say. Was she supposed to tell her to stay strong, or that they are no longer suffering? Their soul stones had been taken, and for all they knew, were either destroyed or lost. There was absolutely nothing positive that she could find to give Eruwen. Not a sliver of hope… nothing. She searched, and only saw darkness. She leaned in and embraced her as she sat curled up. "I'm so sorry."

She felt empty, or would have if it were not for the emotions writhing inside of her. She was keeping them hidden, or at least trying to. Though she tried to suppress the volcano of grief welling up inside of her, it needed release, and it would find a way out if she did not let it. She wanted to throw her head back and wail at the darkening sky, to ask why such horrific things had happened to her. Something in her kept that from happening for reasons she did not understand. Eruwen tried to find solace in Aureleth's embrace, but there was none to be had. She only felt suffocated. It was not Aureleth's fault, but even if her own mother had done it Eruwen would have felt the same. She leaned to the side, slowly shrugging off the woman's arms. Aureleth sighed, understanding. Eruwen resumed looking at the lush, green grass. Anyone else would have found it beautiful, would have enjoyed the feeling of the cool, soft blades as they sat, but all she saw were lost lives and hope.

"She is dying inside. I can feel it," Aureleth said solemnly as she sat down next to Andron, who had also done so, and was gazing towards the sunset. "I want nothing more than to help her. I feel her pain, what she is trying to hide. It is a horrible sight to behold, yet… yet there is nothing that I can do," she addressed Andron with sad, forlorn eyes.

"I know… but… what is there to say? Some things simply cannot be helped, and this is one of them. Both you and I have experienced loss, seen horrible things, done horrible things… but our minds were prepared for it. We knew the risks; we were tempered, and ready. Her, though…" he pointed to Eruwen, who had remained in the exact same position, a blank stare on her face. "She is only a child, and just like that, her entire life was destroyed. I doubt even I could handle something like that. What she must have seen and heard are..." He sighed. "There's nothing we can do. I doubt there ever will be. We can try, but…" He let himself fall backwards, his arms spread out to the side as he lamented. "Throne of Terra, why must this happen? Did… did you ever even want to fight? I damn myself to the Warp for it now, but at one point I did. I mean… against those that have absolutely no goal other than our destruction I see no issue, but there is room for peace in this galaxy. And at a point in my life I wanted none of it." He tilted his head towards her. The light shined softly on her features, casting delicate shadows across her face, some of them dancing as her hair was picked up and waved in the wind. The sight of it gave him some peace, but the feeling of self-loathing still remained. "What… what does that make me?"

Aureleth turned down to meet his eyes, a small frown on her face. He was quick to demonize himself. "I only see what is in front of me, and what I see is a gentle soul that wants nothing more than for a world where one can live without fear. That is what you are. You are not evil, and you are certainly not bloodthirsty. War…" her eyes fell to the grass. "War consumes us. No matter how much we try to fight it, it will overtake us if we become too involved. The part of you that wants nothing to do with it, the part of you that contains who you are, your morals, your hopes, dreams… you, are thrust into the recesses of your own mind. What remains is a husk, his soul rent from his body by the claws of death, pain, and destruction. Occasionally, one might have a moment of clarity. They usually exist between battles, or important moments where decisions have the most impact… or, as one dies, his final breath escaping from his body along with his tortured spirit, finally free from the hell it had been thrust into." She connected eyes with him. "You, however… I believe you are special. I believe that you are one of the few that can fight against such a fate. You have in the past."

Andron had seen too many driven mad by the horrors of war. Everyone he had ever seen that had fought was impacted somehow. He realized that there was really nobody who got away unscathed. He'd had friends who started out just as he had. They were eager, wanting to serve, and had a fire in their hearts lit with the flame of the Imperial faith. Soon, however, they were just like the rest. They were dead inside. No matter how charismatic they might have seemed, they all looked the same on the inside. Every last one of their thoughts, actions, words, and emotions was somehow impacted by what they had suffered. And during battle… she was right. He prayed that he would be able to avoid such a fate. What use was there surviving when all that would be left would be a walking corpse?

"I hope," he said. He repeated it again, mumbling it under his breath. He turned his head upwards, looking back at Eruwen. It was likely beginning to happen to her. Though it would not turn her into a killer, war would kill her as well if he did not protect her. Aureleth was right, Eruwen was dying inside. While he and the warrior had developed ways to cope, or try to cope with the horrors they had to endure, Eruwen had no defense. She was being eaten from the inside out by what she had seen. He pitied her, possibly more than he ever pitied someone in his life.

"I did at times…" Aureleth's voice eased through the silence.

"Hmmm?" He cocked his head towards her.

"At times, I did want to fight. Though there is a difference in wanting to fight for one's defense, there were times where I wanted to kill even though there really was no need. You know of one instance. I was dead. What raised a pistol to your head and fired that day…" she choked up at the memory. "It was I, yet it was not. I could feel myself thrust into the smallest corner of my own mind as the rest was consumed in white hot flames of hatred and anger. Even at times other than that, I could feel it. I felt pressed down, pushed aside as little by little I lost… everything, to that emptiness."

Andron knew that there was nothing he could do for Eruwen at the time, and though he felt terrible leaving her to wallow in her pain, he did not want to intrude on her. He hadn't eaten in over a day, and reminded Aureleth that neither had she.

"I have some of these things," he pulled out the pouch of thumb-sized seeds and handed it to her before removing an MRE from its wrapping.

"What is that?" She curiously eyed what he held.

"No idea," He sniffed it to ensure that it would not kill him before taking a bite out of it. It was funny, how a meal, no matter how horrendous, could ease one's mind after going so long without eating. He figured that was why they had no need to make what he ate taste good, as they knew he would appreciate it regardless.

"Is that all you are given?" She split one of the seeds in half before putting it into her mouth. It did not taste very good raw, and was really meant to be used as an ingredient, but she didn't care… and it certainly looked better than whatever Andron held.

"Usually. I mean, when we're out fighting and not near any set base or anything, then yes. Once we get points set up, we get stuff that more closely resembles food." He was pretty sure it was supposed to taste like Grox meat, but in no way was he certain. They sat and ate in silence for several minutes.

"Where will we go?" He voiced a question that had been circulating in his head since they had set out across the plains.

"After we reach the hub? There are paths leading to areas all over the entire craftworld, most of which are underground. If we can commandeer a vehicle, we will be able to go almost anywhere. We could get as far away from the fighting as we can, and simply wait for the war to end." She placed the other half of the seed into her mouth and began chewing on it as she listened to his response.

"Okay, but… what if the Eldar don't win?"

She looked at him. "Then what difference does it make what we have done? They plan on destroying Yul'Te, do they not?"

He frowned. "Yeah, but there's always the possibility that they would want to keep it intact in order to study it. There are certain Ordos that would want that. Either way, victory for the Imperium does not bode well for us. You know this place better than I do, so I'll leave the decision up to you about where we go."

She shuddered at the idea of humans sweeping across her beloved craftworld and systematically exterminating all of the Eldar on it in order to study it. "We shall see. I do believe that farther away from the port would be best, naturally."

Andron chuckled. "This is all just one leap of faith after another, isn't it?"

"I do believe that is what it has come to, yes," she smiled.

They sat in content silence for a moment, before Andron found his eyes pulled towards Eruwen, who still sat with her back against the tree, and was still staring off into the setting sun which was almost halfway below the horizon. He frowned. While they sat together, the soul of the child behind him was being crushed under the weight of deep, deep depression.

"I hate it,"

"Hmmm?" She looked away from the sun.

"She's reminded me what war has done to me. Have we become this calloused? Shouldn't we be comforting her or something?"

She pursed her lips in contemplation. "If one witnesses enough horror, a tolerance will grow. It does not matter what we do, there is no fighting the effect it has on us. We can try to escape it, but it is impossible to completely resist what war will do to us. Even for you and I, it will leave its mark. We could go far, far away, back to your home planet, or to an Exodite world, but the shadow of war will follow us. It has become a part of us that we will take wherever we go. As I said before, all we can do is try to remain ourselves throughout all of it…" she paused for a moment. "Do humans have a war mask?"

He looked up, "A what?"

"We have trained ourselves to have alternate personas, almost, that we call war masks. We use it to take all of the pain, absorb the hatred and sorrow that comes with war so that we might try to live normal lives after we leave the Path of the Warrior. As I have said, however, it still leaves its mark on us, even if we have our war masks."

He thought about her question. He certainly had never been trained for such a thing. How was he supposed to know if he had an alternate persona to take his pain? The answer was simple. He closed his eyes, and the same things he saw every time he tried to sleep, closed them to rest, or even blinked, flashed before his eyes. No. It was all there. It was right with him.

"Close your eyes," he said.

"Close my eyes?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Close your eyes, and tell me what you see."

"Very well," she said skeptically as she closed her eyes, and remained that way for almost a minute.

"What do you see?"

"I see that boy," she whispered, surprise creeping into her voice.

"Who, Harkin?"

"Yes. I see Eruwen's family, too. I see the officer you shot, and those men that I killed before we found each other again… I... see the faces of the dead."

He felt guilty for finding some solace in the fact that he wasn't alone. "Then, what has your war mask done for you?"

"I have not worn mine in a long time. It does not take long to lose it. Eventually, the memories might start to come back, and any new ones are put directly into my soul. My mask remains hidden, and until I find it again, everything I see and do will become a part of me." She sighed.

"What else did you see?" He felt like she might have been withholding something, as he saw her brow furrow after she told him what she'd seen.

"I saw… you."

He recoiled slightly. "Me? Dead?"

"I… do not know. It was only a fleeting image. I believe it was when we first crossed paths. Why that memory is not kept with my war mask I do not know, however I saw you." She looked up at him. "I do believe that you need not worry, however. It could be for another reason that I see you whenever I close my eyes," she said, reassuring him with a smile.

He returned with a nervous smile.

"What do you think will be there?" He broke the short silence that had followed their previous conversation.

"If I knew, I would tell you. All we can do is hope that whatever awaits us is something that we can overcome or avoid. I do not think that the Imperials will have gotten that far, as the front at the Dome of Falling Skies seems to be holding. If we make haste tomorrow, we can ensure that we avoid any sort of conflict. I am confident in our abilities," she said.

He grunted. "So, what do we do about her?" He pointed to the child who was beginning to lose a battle with sleep, likely by her own will.

"She needs rest; tomorrow will be difficult for all of us."

Eruwen was on the edge of consciousness, happily succumbing to the pull of sleep. She was starting to feel a little cold, but she was not willing, nor was she sure how to, ask Andron for his field blanket. She'd tried to find the memory that she'd relived when they had first arrived, but all that greeted her was emptiness. Her last thoughts before she fell asleep were ones of what she'd lost. There was almost too much for her to wrap her mind around, she thought as she slipped into an uneasy slumber.

Andron's sighed out of pity for the girl before reaching into his pack and removing his field blanket. He stood and carefully crept over to her as she slept, putting perhaps more effort than in his entire life into being undetectable. He draped the blanket over her form, which was propped up against the tree. He held his breath as she toppled over, laying down in the grass. He quietly exhaled before returning to Aureleth's side. Looking at her, he saw that she was biting her lip in contemplation, one of her canines protruding from her mouth slightly as she did so.

"Something wrong?"

She almost started at the sound of his voice so suddenly interrupting her thoughts, which was probably a result of what the thoughts were.

"No, no... Well, nothing is wrong, though I am thinking."

"About?"

She shifted as she sat, apparently almost uncomfortable with voicing the idea that, while she was sure was present in the back of his mind, was still absolutely foreign to both of them. "What will we do?"

He was confused, and could have sworn that they had already discussed that. "You said we'd go to the hub and then try to escape to areas that haven't gotten caught up in this, right?"

"Indeed I did, but... I meant... what will we do..." she looked at him, "after that?"

He immediately understood what she was asking, and why she was nervous about doing so. If there was one thing that war did, it was amplify emotions. As a result of that, they had advanced through a long process in a matter of days. Still, such a process cannot be flawlessly executed in such a short time, and thus a strange distance still remained between them in some areas. It all still seemed surreal to them in a sense, and as a result the idea she brought up was difficult to discuss. They still felt deep down inside that all they had was a fleeting moment of happiness before the inevitable. The thought that they could actually survive and enjoy a life of peace afterwards was nearly incomprehensible.

"You mean after all of this?" He gestured towards the smoke columns in the distance.

She nodded sheepishly, almost embarrassed at the idea and its implications.

"I... don't know," he replied. "What about her?" Andron nodded back to Eruwen.

"Hmmm?"

"What will we do with her?" Andron knew that it was of little use to think so far ahead regarding the fate of the girl, but Emperor willing, they would have to consider such things. He was beginning to have to ponder ideas that he had discarded when he'd joined the Guard, and having them suddenly brought to the forefront of his conscience again was confusing at least. He felt a pang of guilt shoot through him as he voiced his question, however. In the back of his mind there was no doubt as to what they would do, but he had already said it.

Aureleth thought about his question. She knew little to nothing about rearing a child, and such thoughts had never even began to cross her mind. She could kill and make it artful, wage war with grace that few could match, and was virtually fearless in the face of death, yet a simple question, one that should have an easy answer, was almost frightening to consider for her. There only seemed to be one thing to do, however. "Well… we cannot just send her on her way alone. We will have to care for her ourselves most likely."

Andron smiled. He wondered though, how Eruwen would receive such an idea. The thought of them caring for a war-orphaned, severely emotionally harmed Eldar child was almost absurd to him, but he welcomed it. In the back of his mind he had always wanted to wage more peaceful wars against such things as the hardships that come with children. "The three of us… we're like a hastily assembled family." He meant it as somewhat of a statement wrapped in light humor, but looking over at her he saw that her face was bright red, its color visible even in the sunset.

"A…family?" She had thought of it herself before, but hearing him say it was something entirely different. She was unsure why it was son intensely embarrassing for her, but she could barely stand to think of it.

Andron then considered his own fate. He knew that she most likely had been as well, and though they were both dreading having to come to grips with the dark realities and possibilities that would lie ahead of them, it was inevitable. His smile faded before he asked. "What about me? Surely I would not be able to stay."

Aureleth only sighed, not wanting to think too much about such a possibility, even though in the back of her mind it was almost a certainty.

"Is there anyone you can talk to? It might seem ridiculous, but is there?"

"What do you mean, a higher power or a council? We have a council, yes, but such an issue is unprecedented for Yul'Te. It is likely even unprecedented in our race's entire history. Our options are…few." She bowed her head slightly as several realizations dawned upon her. "Is… is this all for naught?"

He looked over to her, seeing distress begin to creep onto her face. "What do you mean?"

"Is this futile? Are we being foolish in our pursuit?" She had been so caught up in the present that she had not had any time to actually contemplate the future. Being able to, she did not like what she saw. The reality was looking darker as she examined it further.

"I don't know. And what I consider to be a trademark of humanity is that we usually don't know, or care. I will do everything in my power to ensure that this is not for nothing, and I know you will as well. That's all we can do. You even agreed with me that this is just one leap of faith after another. I have no idea what's to come, but whatever it is, we'll think of something. I think we've both been in worse situations," he said as he put his arm around her shoulder.

Andron knew that the Eldar would not be receptive of him, at least not with open arms, but a part of him was hoping that maybe they would be more accepting than the Imperium. They had shown that his hopes were not misplaced, but war could turn anybody into a savage beast, and he had no shortage of horrifying stories he had heard in his lifetime about combat with the Eldar. After an event such as an attack on their craftworld, he was doubtful that they would be in the mood to accept a human into their midst. He feared that Aureleth might suffer because of it as well…

"To the end, I'll do everything that I can to keep you safe. She is only a child, and you are still young," he huffed "between the two of you there is almost two thousand years of life to be had. The average life expectancy for a guardsman is fifteen hours. I'm already living on borrowed time. Even if I lived a life of peace, I could only pray that I saw two hundred. I'm only human," he lamented.

"You think yourself insignificant? You saved my life, and in more ways than one. I owe you mine." She looked hurt at his self-deprecating attitude.

"That's akin to trading a bolter for a rusty dagger."

She frowned at that, and her response showed her slowly building frustration with its slightly increased vigor. "Andron, you have become important to me. Very important. I do not know why fate has intertwined our lives so, but we have found what few in this world can ever even dream of. I do not know how long it will last, but I plan on keeping it for as long as possible, even if the world is conspiring against us. Andron, we are very different in the end, and while those differences between us have yet to be stressed, we have made it thus far. What I am saying is that... I would have been killed had it not been for you, and not only do I owe you my life, but there is something else inside of me that I have never before experienced in my life. No other beings, not even other Eldar who live several times as long as you, were able to bring those feelings out. You did, Andron. And if you can do all that you have done while being human, given the short time that you have to work with, I envy your ability."

"I hope. It has been such a short time since we found each other, but I feel as if… I just don't want to lose you. I cannot bear that thought anymore." Aureleth leaned into him, her hair settling on his chest and flowing down into his lap. The possibility was very real that they could die or become separated. They were, after all, in a warzone. If she could just enjoy what time they had together, the three of them, and make it last as long as possible… that was all there was to do.

He tightened his arm around her. "I know. I won't let that happen." He looked down at her. "I promise."

"I know." She returned the embrace. Regardless of what their future held, whether they died the very next day, she had found happiness in him, and she would hold onto it for as long as she could. It might have seemed selfish to her years before, but she had never experienced such emotions herself until only a few days before. She also knew that he would do the same, but some things were simply out of one's ability to control. She prayed that it would never come to that, but the darkness loomed all around them, and there was no escaping its shadow.

"If we… run into anything… how will we protect ourselves now that we have her to look after?"

Aureleth thought about his question for a moment. Before, they could hold their own in a fight if need be, however with Eruwen under their care, they had to completely rethink how they would go about confrontations. Their first and best line of defense was always evasion, but in the event that they were forced to fight, Eruwen was a variable that they could not ignore. Retreat and hiding would be their best options at all times. Only if absolutely necessary should they fight. She voiced those thoughts to Andron.

When she spoke, he looked towards her out of reflex. When his eyes fell upon her, though, he heard not a single word she said. Behind her from where he was looking was a landscape the likes of which he thought was only possible in a dream. Softly rolling hills covered in green grass, with alien flowers, their bright petals and limbs extending outwards gracing the plains, were backed by swirling wisps of clouds on an orange and purple sky that extended up into blackness the higher he looked. In the foreground of all of that was Aureleth. The breeze had died down, but retained just enough strength to tug at the ends of her long, ethereal golden-white hair which flowed with the currents. The soft, dimming light from the setting sun radiated from her face which almost seemed to glow, the tips of her elegantly curved ears accented by the light. Her eyes reflected the light, glints of orange in her depthless green irises. She looked like an angel, something not of the world of hatred and death that they were trying so desperately hard to escape.

"Andron,"

He was snapped back into reality by her voice. "Yeah?"

"Are you well? You seemed… preoccupied," A look of mild concern was on her face.

"I'm fine. I've just never seen something like it before."

"It?"

"The sunset." He knew the instant he said it that it was a mistake. She confirmed his fears a second later.

"The sunset is over there," She indicated the direction of it, roughly ninety degrees away from where he'd been looking.

He huffed a laugh. "Yeah… I know."

"What were you looking at?" Due to her inexperience in the ideas surrounding Andron's actions, she was unable to understand what he had actually been doing.

He laughed, a warm sound, but indicative of his amusement. He just looked into her eyes and let that be his answer. Her face turned a bright red, visible even in the sunlight.

"It is beautiful though, is it not?" She tried to change the subject away from her embarrassment. They were gazing over the landscape of rolling green hills on a backdrop of a setting sun. She pulled her knees to her chest, leaning into his embrace.

"It is," he said. She leaned her head on his shoulder and they remained that way for some time before lying down, and fell asleep on the cool grass as the sun was just falling below the horizon, the sky an orange, red and purple mixture of cloudy wisps.

_The lasrifle stopped firing, a click signaling that the power cell had run dry. His finger was still wrapped tight around the trigger, pressing it into the grip, its thin form digging into his skin. He stood with trembling hands, his eyes still rife with afterimages; blue and white imprints in his vision as his retinas recovered from the intense strobe of his rifle. In the afterimages he saw them. Each flash was like a frame in a movie. Each time the dark room was lit again with a blindingly bright red light there was one more black-outlined hole bored into one of them. He had seen their deaths in pictures, at his own hands. Those afterimages would remain for the rest of his life, even after his vision recovered. He lost all strength in his arms and they fell limp, his lasrifle dangling from his fingers at his side, his other hand hanging limp. He bit back tears that threatened to flood from his eyes, tasting blood and realizing that he had bit his tongue so hard that it bled. The others stood around him, silent. Most wore blank expressions, some had hate written on their faces, and a very small few showed signs of pain. All, however, stared at the four dead bodies that lay in front of them, riddled with seared and cauterized holes and sitting in growing pools of blood. _

_"We are leaving. Our work here is done. And you..." The commissar gestured towards Andron with his bolt pistol. "Hesitate again, and I will not."_

_Without another word the man turned and left, the others following suit, what remained of the battered company assembling outside. Andron turned to leave, but forced one last glance back at what he had done. He would make sure that their memory would haunt him to the Warp and back. He forced his eyes to scan their faces. He saw masks of pain and fear, agony and sadness. Were they not the same faces he saw on those killed by the forces of Chaos themselves?_

Andron woke with a start, a sharp intake of breath sounding from his mouth as his eyes flicked open. They darted around, taking in his surroundings in a second before the dream was pushed from the forefront of his mind, resuming its lurking in his subconscious. It was dark still, the light of the artificial moon reflecting sunlight from the other side of Yul'Te onto the ground. He heard a rustle and his hand jumped to his lasrifle. He relaxed when it was followed by the barely perceptible sound of someone choking back a sob. His hand left his rifle, and he carefully slid away from Aureleth, being sure to not wake her. Looking over to the source of the noise, he saw a lump under his field blanket. Again she had curled herself up into an isolated world of pain. He again felt guilty for leaving her to deal with her problems herself, but he reminded himself that she would not have had any of his help.

He would rectify that, however. They had no idea what would lie waiting for them when they arrived at the transportation hub, but they could be sure that they might not survive. Even if that were not the case, Andron did not want Eruwen to be in such a pitiful mental state. At the rate she was going, she would be dead whether or not her physical form was destroyed. While he knew that she would likely never recover fully from such a tragic loss, and certainly not within the few short days since they had found her, giving her what Aureleth had given him, someone to confide in, would help. If not only for practical reasons, he wanted her to be able to trust him. Not only would they be more likely to make it out alive, it simply pained him immensely to see the fear and hurt in her eyes every time she looked at him or he tried to approach her. He had little in the way of a plan for handling her, but he supposed that way was best.

He stood and walked over to her. She was huddled at the base of the tree, the blanket enveloping her entirely. A few locks of her blood red hair were visible, their ends protruding from under the cover. He sat down next to her, and stared off into the distance in silence.

Eruwen heard the human approaching. She tried to stifle herself, not wanting him to hear her. She didn't want to appear weak in front of him. She didn't want him, of all people, to be the one to see her lose composure, to watch as her emotional state crumbled into ruin. She wondered what he even wanted. She considered the possibility that he wanted the satisfaction of seeing her like that. She felt the familiar knot of fear build up in her stomach as he came closer, twisting and writhing in her core, turning her blood cold. She heard the footsteps stop. He was right next to her. She tensed up under the blanket, wary of his presence, before she heard the sound of grass being ground into the dirt as he sat down, pivoting his boots as he did so. She remained as quiet as she possibly could be for what felt like an eternity. She heard not a sound from him. He simply sat in silence as she tried to keep from breaking down. Was he mocking her? Was he waiting? If that were so, then why would Aureleth...

"H-hey."

She gasped, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice. She tried to ignore him, burying her face into the blanket. Just knowing that a human was anywhere near her served as a reminder of where she was. She had nobody, her entire life utterly destroyed by humans. They had done unspeakable things to her family, and would have done the same to her had she been found. She blinked and their faces flashed before her eyes, causing her to feel a fresh wash of sadness over her again. The fact that the human was within arm's reach, able to do as he pleased if not for Aureleth was terrifying. Aureleth was asleep, and it was really only Eruwen and the human. She felt him, his emotions radiating off of him. He was saddened as well. She remembered hearing him wake with a start... could it be possible that even humans had nightmares? His voice pulled her from her thoughts again. It was only a whisper, but it still put her ill at ease.

He was trying to be as meek as possible, not wanting to frighten the girl, but she was showing no response. He hesitantly reached out and placed his hand on where he believed her shoulder was, feeling her instantly tense up under his touch.

He touched her... She felt his hand on her even through the blanket. It was large, and brutish; nothing like Aureleth's. She remained hidden, not moving under his touch, waiting to see what he would do next. He did nothing, and only remained like that, his hand on her shoulder as she laid still. She would wait for him to make a move. She was still afraid of the human who was laying his hand on her, but another part of her conscience wanted to know... it was curious. What did he really want?

She did nothing except tense up as soon as he laid his hand on her, nearly causing him to recoil back. Andron steeled himself, almost laughing inwardly at the fact that he needed to do so in order to maintain contact with a child, and waited for a response.

Eruwen had decided that she was not going to take any kind of initiative. She would see what the human was going to do. The girl waited, trying to keep her composure in an impromptu game of wills. Her opponent did not falter, and merely waited.

He was making no progress, and was beginning to lose hope of ever befriending the child. He thought about the many courses of action available to him in dealing the situation, and came to the conclusion that he would simply have to risk everything he had managed to build with her in order to further her trust for him. He reached down and peeled back the blanket, exposing her face and head. He noticed with deep sadness that she was almost visibly trembling, and looking at her face it was obvious that she was on the verge of a complete emotional meltdown. He would have to proceed with great care. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, and she let out a small whimper.

"Eruwen,"

She sucked in a tiny breath at his use of her name, as if it would curse her. She did everything in her power to avoid looking up at him as he loomed over her, but in the end succumbed to the insurmountable temptation to do so. She flicked her eyes to the side to look up at him, and saw his figure silhouetted against the night sky, the light reflecting from the ground illuminating his face. He looked... saddened. But could he possibly feel that way about? Surely it couldn't be her. His presence was beginning to wear away at her resolve.

Andron replaced his hand on her shoulder without the blanket between them. Little by little, he was getting closer to her. He frowned inwardly at how cold she felt. She twitched under his less distant touch, and he again tried to assume as unthreatening as demeanor as possible. He would wait all night if it was necessary, so long as she understood that he had no intentions of harming her.

Eruwen was only able to watch and wait. She as unable to move, and whether she was froen with fear or some other force she did not know. All she could do was lie and wait. Seh stole another glance at his face, and he was staring right into her eyes before she quickly broke the contact. She heard a soft rustle as he shifted his body back, sitting straight up and farther from her than he had been. She looked in his direction, and saw the same thing. He was looking right into her eyes. She decided to hold, and scanned his eyes for something, anything indicative of his intentions. All she could find was sadness. Her body, in partial contradiction to her mind, sat up.

Andron's hand rose with her as she sat up, using her hands to push herself into a sitting position. He followed her face as rose, but she had again cast her eyes to the dark ground. He could sense that she was possibly beginning to grow less afraid of him. The fact that she did not shrug his hand off or turn and run was a good sign. The blanket slid off of the upper half of her body, exposing the long dress robe she wore underneath. It was beginning to grow tattered even though they had only been travelling for a couple of days, and he remembered, feeling yet another pang of guilt, that she had no protection on her feet. They were likely sore and cut from walking through the city, again his negligence a result of attempting to survive. She was shivering enough so that he was just able to notice, he hoped due to the cold and not fear.

Her hands were still clutched at her chest, but he was unsure if she was holding anything. The memory of her huddled up in the closet, a necklace around her neck stormed into his mind with great force. He did not know if it was hers, or someone else's, but they both had forgotten about it until that night, so caught up in trying to survive. If ever there was a better gesture of trust-building, he would have liked to see it. His hand darted from the small girl's shoulder to his pocket, and she let out a yelp and shielded her head and face with her arms. He froze and stared. His dream came back to haunt him as he looked upon the girl cowering in fear in front of him. He had never wanted to do what haunted him at that moment, but he had committed the act anyway. She didn't know that, but he understood what potential was inside of him. He thought to himself, she did have every reason to be afraid of him, didn't she?

She shielded her head and face, though she knew that it would do absolutely nothing against him as he was far larger than she. He was reaching for his pocket, and her fear came back to possess her once again. She thought of the plethora of objects he might remove from it to kill her with. Her rational mind was again cast into oblivion, replaced only by a primal fear of the creatures that had made her life worse than hell itself. The fragile acceptance she had had of his presence had been broken in one simple movement that, while benign, was enough to push her back over the edge of reason into the abyss of fear. Her mind told her she was going to die. He would kill her right there, as had been his plan the entire time. He had never cared for her safety, only that he ends her existence. Eruwen's chest began to expand and deflate in rapid bursts of movement as she choked back sobs that threatened to escape her lips. She wanted to scream, but found that her voice had left her. She sat as she was and waited to rejoin those that she had lost.

He let out a short sigh, indicating that he was on the verge of speaking, before slowly reaching towards her. "Eruwen..." He gently took hold of her wrists.

She felt that same sensation that she had when he'd first grabbed her. His grip was firm, yet... gentle. The tiny voice in her head was barely heard amidst the din of panicked screams in her mind. She was frozen with fear, unable to move, and was powerless as he slowly lowered her arms. He had total control of her. She was at his nonexistent mercy. Eruwen whimpered as her only, pitiful defense was taken away from her.

He finally got her trembling arms away from her face, and saw fear, despair, and sadness twisting her face into a pathetic expression of one who was moments away from a violent, painful death. His inner daemons clawed at his heart with razor sharp talons, setting it alight with self-hate. Tears were brimming at the edges of her eyes, threatening to overflow and pour forth over her cheeks. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and removed the necklace.

"Eruwen. It's okay, I won't hurt you. I only want to help," he whispered. He held the necklace in his open palm and brought her other hand down to touch it.

She felt the icy cold of metal against her skin, and drew her hand away as quickly as she could, easily sliding it out of his grasp. Knowing her death was likely moments away, she opened her eyes to satisfy her grim curiosity as to what he would use to end her life. It was on a silver chain, a single star-shaped jewel that shifted between all visible colors in brilliant transitions. The jewel was surrounded by the rune representing love. It was slightly dulled; a thin layer of grime having accumulated on it from being pressed up against a physically exerted human, but it was still just as beautiful as the day she had picked it out for Anhariel. She froze, unable to think. He held Anhariel's necklace, offering it to her with an open hand. She looked up into face, reading his expression. She only saw a combination of guilt, for the sins of his people, and pure benevolence. He was returning it to her. The last shred of her past that she had left she thought she had lost, and he was giving it back. Her hand covering her mouth, she let out a choked squeak, the nearly overwhelming storm she felt raging inside of her threatening to explode from within. Without thought, the only driving force being her heart, she reached out with a trembling hand, shaking with emotion and the remnants of animalistic fear, and made to reconcile with whom she had thought was her greatest enemy. She felt guilt wracking her soul, for she had been cruel to him, and had seen every time she had been so the look of pain on his face caused by her actions. She had thought him a monster, yet he sat in front of her, holding out the most precious possession she owned, offering it back to her after he saved it from being lost forever. Eruwen wanted to apologize, but knew not how to. She knew no Gothic, and could only understand his intentions through his expressions and motions. She had ignored them before, despite the fact that he risked death, or worse, in order to save her life from other humans, and the fact that he had never once threatened Aureleth, and that the two appeared to be in love. She just hadn't wanted to deal with something so complex and difficult to understand. In the midst of everything going on around her, trying to come to peace with the idea that one of the very invaders that had decimated everything around her was a benefactor would have been too much, but it was something she had to do if not only for herself, but for all of them.

He held still, not moving a single muscle as she reached out to his hand. He was afraid that even the slightest movement would cause her to run in fear. She stared intently at the necklace he held, making it obvious that it had been very important to her even before the war, and he saw tears welling at the edges of her eyes, beginning to slide down her cheeks before meeting at the tip of her chin and falling to the ground. With a small, fragile looking hand, she went to take back what was rightfully hers.

His hand was calloused, rough, and dirty. She wrapped her fingers around the pendant, her neatly trimmed nails scraping slightly against his palm as her fingertips pressed into his hand in order to get under it. The numerous cuts on his warm skin scratched at the backsides of her fingers, but she held fast, and slowly, carefully, closed her fingers around Anhariel's necklace.

She had been cold, her hand feeling cool to the touch, and he felt guilty that he had been someone who she was unable to ask for anything from in order to alleviate that. He remained still, waiting for her to accept his gesture of peace at her own pace. He felt her trembling as she came into further contact with his palm, but it subsided noticeably in the few seconds it lasted. She gently lifted the necklace out of his palm, and drew back, cupping it in her hands. Drops of liquid began to splash from its surface, her tears cleansing it of the tarnish that had begun to build. She sat with it in her palms and stared at it, weeping.

"Anhariel…" Her voice was the slightest of whispers, strangled to near nothingness with the grip of the emotions inside of her.

When she uttered what he instantly knew was a name, he understood. Unknowingly, he had preserved the last of Eruwen's memory of who she held dearest. Her sister was gone, but he had given her at least some fragment of a memory, an anchor in the sea of pain in which she found herself, to hold onto. He again knew that he would never be able to bring Anhariel back, but he had given the child some solace. He supposed he should use that time to make his leave, and made to stand.

Out of the corner of her eye, through the distorted and blurred lens of her emotions given physical form, Eruwen saw him begin to rise. He was going to leave. He might have thought that she would want to be alone, but what she wanted was exactly the opposite. She reached out, across empty space, her fears, her hate, and ten thousand years of bitterness and war, and gripped his sleeve.


	16. Forgiveness

**Okay, people. I'm so, _so _sorry for taking so long on this update, and I deeply apologize for its meager length (though size isn't everything... at least that's what my girlfriend tells me...). Anyway, I have an excuse (It was Ghost Recon this time)Don't listen to him). I'm leaving for college in less than two weeks (summer program at Penn State). Now, that DOES NOT mean that I am in any way shape or form giving up on SNTXTL. All it means is that I'm going to have less time to write. I will do as much as I can to adhere to my schedule, but in order to do that I might have to post in shorter chapters, simply updating each in chunks before moving onto the next if I don't just release as a whole over longer spreads of time. With school work, finals, and all that good stuff I've been busy as hell. Fear not, though, denizens, as I still adhere to my standards of writing, and am not going to skimp on quality in order to get it out on time. I'd like to thank you all SO MUCH for your patience, faith, and loyalty in giving this work meaning. **

******Also, tomorrow (June 10th) is the big day. I'm finally becoming a pilot :D That took up some time, too. So, as I move on to the next chapter of my life, fear not as I will still be spending as much time as I can working on what I consider the second most satisfying thing I have ever done with my life (behind flying because... well, I can fly...). Again, thank you, and please enjoy this chapter.**

**We're FINALLY getting out of the beautiful but now slightly boring Plains of Ildanesh. Next chapter, The Hub. It's NOT going to be the end, by the way.**

"A— An…dron." Her voice was quiet, as delicate as she herself was, and choked by emotional agony striving for release. She struggled through her state of mind and the foreign nature of his name to pronounce it.

Andron was halfway standing when he heard her speak to him for the first time. He felt a hand feebly grip his sleeve, and he froze in place. He looked down at it in bewilderment, unable to immediately comprehend the fact that she was reaching out to him. Her empty hand not holding Anhariel's necklace gripped him with small white fingers, smudged with dirt and grime. He followed her arm with his gaze, and laid his eyes upon the loneliest face he'd ever seen in his life. Tears were beginning to stream freely down her face from her glimmering eyes as she was on the verge of losing her battle she had been waging with her emotions, and gritted teeth behind open, trembling lips only further reinforced the fact. He turned back to face her completely and knelt at her side, her hand still holding onto him.

She was still unable to completely understand what she felt. Within her, all that was heard was the booming resonance of her want for comfort, for somewhere to find solace. Nothing else mattered to her. She could not bear to fight alone any longer. She needed him. Though she had hated him for what he'd done... Eruwen realized, with guilt adding more to her pain, that she'd hated Andron because he had saved her. He'd been prolonging her suffering by keeping her alive, and for that reason she hated him. Her mind jumping back to her family, she realized with a spike of despair being driven into her heart that her death would be for naught regardless. Their soulstones were missing, and there was no way she would ever see them again in the Infinity Circuit, or anywhere. If she died, she would be possibly even more alone. Andron had saved her, and though she had initially thought it for the worse, she realized that he was what had kept her from allowing her lack of will to live to destroy her. She looked ahead, where he knelt at her eye level, and scanned his face. There was pain written on it, too. It was the agony of one who had seen the suffering of others too many times, who had taken it upon himself to suck the pain of others into himself so that they might live better lives. She felt it. It was the tiniest current, but she felt her despair being drawn slowly from her though Andron. In his eyes, she saw that he was willing to sacrifice for her, that he would be there for her. Though she was in the center of a hell storm of war and death, she was given someone to confide in. She had simply been too blind with hate and fear to see him.

He felt as if she was looking into the very depth of who he was, seeking out any imperfection in his soul. He had done all he could to show her that he only wanted to help her, and could only hope that she would accept his hand, and let him help her. He knew what she must have thought of him, how her opinion of him was immensely tainted, but he would still try, as without someone to release into, she would be torn apart from the inside out. He waited, hoping that he had done enough to prove that he wanted to protect her.

She didn't care who he was anymore, what he might or might not have done, or what those of his kind stood for. All she had ever received from him was kindness, and while she had been bitter and unwilling to accept it in the beginning, his last gesture was something she never could have dreamed of from anyone. The darkness of war and despair had been choking her to death, strangling what little life she had left out of her. She knew that she could not survive alone, and she in fact did not want to be alone. He was a human, but he was also something else; something that exists without regard for creed or past. He wanted to be there for her, she knew, and she needed someone to confide in more than at any other moment in her life. Eruwen wanted to scream, to wail, to weep, and to cry to the heavens, and ask why she had been cast into hell among the damned and dead. Instead, she found herself diving forward and doing so into the human's chest.

Her hands gripped his tunic with all of their might, her muffled wails escaping from the cloth and carrying for a short distance before being swallowed into the silence of the night. She buried her face into him and let the pent up agony burst from within her, her tears being absorbed into his uniform. Her entire body was affected by the torrent, and she convulsed and writhed as she sobbed.

Andron was almost startled when Eruwen dove into him, causing him to tense up before relaxing again. He could feel her sobs and wails reverberating in his torso as she let all of her pain flow freely and into him, and he quickly felt wet spots form where her face was, her tears soaking through his uniform. His hand was still on her shoulder, and he wrapped his other arm around the girl, holding her tightly as she broke down in his embrace, her body wracked with sobs. She writhed in his arms, nearly gone mad with the power of the release of pain she was feeling and all he could do was sit and hold her, trying to offer something resembling a haven for her to let go. He began to feel it; that outpouring of emotion and its effect on those near it. His heart wrenched, blood rushed to his face, and his tear ducts dilated as he became a conduit for her eruption of intense feeling. He held her tightly, pressing his forehead against her head, offering whatever comfort he could possibly think of in her moment of dire need. At first he was confused as to why he felt the way he did, but as he sat and held the sobbing child, he understood a dark yet freeing truth. Though his eyes were wrung shut, he saw their faces. He saw that woman, whose name he would never know, holding her shuddering children as he murdered them. Eruwen had suffered the same fate he had inflicted on them, and he felt the pain that something so horrible caused. He was holding the result of actions like his. In a way, he had someone else who knew his pain. He vowed that he would atone for that through her; that he would readily give his life to ensure her safety, no longer only for her sake. In the back of his mind, however, he had already made that commitment; it was stronger than ever before. He was no longer haunted by ethereal faces, but was protecting someone who had suffered firsthand the atrocities of war that he'd partaken in.

She brought out what he had been trying to forget, trying to contain for those years, her release a catalyst for his own, pushing his precarious balance over the edge, causing contained torment to spill from him. He understood firsthand what she had suffered, though it was because he had been the one who had perpetrated the acts. He felt everything she did as she cried in his embrace, their shared pain bringing them together from both sides of the same horror. He held her and wept, tears rolling down his face.

So much horror, despair, agony, and death had surrounded and permeated her. She'd felt it eating away at her soul, as if she was dying as she walked. In a way, she had been. As she sobbed in his arms, letting go a lifetime's worth of angst and sadness gained in the course of days, she could in fact feel it. She felt... safe. Safe to cry, to grieve, to stop and allow her emotions to flow freely, knowing that he was there, and wanted to be there, to soak up her pain and do all he could to liberate her from the prison of misery in which she had been trapped. For the first time since she had witnessed the death of her entire family, she did not feel alone. Eruwen felt drops of moisture on the top of her head, and through the chaos in her mind felt the bobbing of his chest. He was crying with her, and though she did not understand why, it offered her comfort. For a short eternity, Eruwen cried, before, slowly, she grew calm, and fell asleep nestled in the arms of the weeping human. Though the pain would never truly be gone, he had taken some of the burden for her, she felt, and he had given her someone she knew she could trust completely.

Aureleth had been awake, though she feigned sleep so as not to influence Andron's actions with his knowledge that she was conscious. In war, she realized, everything was at a frantic pace, including the development of relationships and bonds. What would take months for humans she had done in days, and Andron had finally gained the trust of the little girl after several painful days of rejection and mistrust. They had to though, she supposed. They may very well all be dead the next day. They were being tossed around in a cyclone of death and destruction at blistering speeds, and all they could do was try to find something to hold onto. They'd found each other, and Eruwen had finally found Andron. She smiled before returning to sleep.

Two newly connected souls offered each other comfort in an otherwise bleak and horrid world, their shared suffering a base for their newfound trust to be built upon. They had been separated by bitterness, hatred, and fear, but it was ironically the actions that came with such sentiments that allowed the two to overcome them. Many were lost, but out of the tragic deaths they were able to salvage something beautiful, that would help them cope with the horrors that surrounded them, strengthening another bond in a small triangle of hope lost in a conflagration of death. Eruwen had found a guardian, someone in whom she could confide in and rely on. In giving back what was most precious to her, Andron had shown Eruwen that he was not anything like the others. He had wept with her, and she had felt their emotions affecting one another. In that moment she had known that he was her protector, and it was he who would watch over her.

Eruwen woke to the sound of distant guns, and the feeling of the ever present breeze brushing over her face. She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She was laying down, Andron's blanket covering her. Her vision was blurry, and she rubbed her eyes with balled fists. Upon raising her hands from her eyes, she saw the necklace whose chain was intertwined in her fingers. She gasped, the memories of the past night flooding back to the forefront of her mind. She felt eyes upon her, and sat up, finding Andron and Aureleth sitting next to one another and watching her. Andron smiled, but there was sadness tainting it.

He wondered if she understood what she was to him; that she was not only someone he would give his life for and dearly wanted to protect but a reminder of why he had made those decisions. Andron was unsure, but the night before had bridged most any gaps that had existed between them. He had finally earned Eruwen's trust, and he would be damned if he was going to waste it. He watched her with Aureleth as the child woke, rubbing her eyes and taking in her surroundings in a manner resembling that of a lost child, which she technically was. He realized that he awoke the same way every day. His mind was never able to completely accept the fact that he was at war, and though he period of disorientation and surprise when there was not a roof over his head and the warm comfort of a bed had grown to near nothingness, it still lingered, a reminder of how unnatural it all was to him. He watched her as she saw the necklace in her hand and, judging by her reaction, realized that the previous night had in fact not been a dream. She looked up at him again with a stare of bewildered, immeasurable thanks. He smiled at her, though the memories of the previous night injected sadness into his demeanor, and it showed on his face though he tried to appear jubilant.

"Are we ready?" There was no sense in waiting, he thought.

"I am, yes. We will definitely arrive today, if not within a few hours of walking." Again, she knew little of what they would actually do once they reached the hub. By all odds, they should have been dead, so even having only a shell of a plan to act upon was a blessing that she and Andron would exploit to its fullest. She voiced the next question that entered her mind without considering its implications, and was unable to stop herself before it reached his ears.

"Have you and Eruwen..." she let the following words hang, as what had happened could have been called many things.

"Yes, we have." He smiled. "I think we finally understand each other. There was a lot... I realized a lot... About her and myself..." the sudden influx of memories that the notion of that particular moment, what it meant to him, and what she was to him caused made his eyes fall towards the ground. "I can't let her get hurt again. I can't bear to see it again. It'll kill me." He let what he had said linger to be taken in and digested, their weight and significance requiring that.

Andron stood with an intake of breath, and walked over to the sitting child, her eyes following him as he moved. He stopped, towering over her sitting form as he stood in front of her. He extended his hand, palm up, offering it to her as she sat. Understanding that the heat of the previous moment had since passed, and that she was likely to be apprehensive again, he waited patiently and was both relieved and happy to find that she did not hesitate long before she took his offered hand. He lifted the child to her feet, the blanket rolling from her shoulders as she came to a standing position, Anhariel's necklace dangling from her hand that was not enveloped in his. He let go of her hand, and she offered the tiniest of smiles before looking off into the distance, her mind becoming occupied with thoughts he was not sure that he wanted to know. He stooped to take the blanket, but upon seeing that she still grasped it with one hand, decided to let her be. He returned to Aureleth and donned his vest, pack, and retrieved his lasrifle from the ground.

"Well..." There was little to say in situations like theirs, the unspoken saying far more than what would have been. He received a nod in return. "Eruwen."

The child glanced round at him. Aureleth interjected with what he assumed was her telling the girl that they were about to leave. She nodded, before returning to the tree where her and her sister's names were carved into the bark. She stood there, taking one last moment with the precious sanctuary to the love she had shared with Anhariel. She traced the runes with her finger, etching the picture in front of her into her memory as she followed their contours. Though she had few left, she shed tears for her lost sister and the horror that had enveloped their world. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Andron as the one comforting her. Though the gesture was small, simply a touch, its effects were undeniable. She offered a small, sad smile as thanks, receiving a similar expression in return. He turned away and returned to Aureleth's side where they waited for her. She turned back to the carving, trying to return to the memory of the day she gave Anhariel her necklace. Unable to recall it, she placed her hand against the runes one last time before turning and following Andron and Aureleth as they began the last leg of their journey to the hub, unsure of what awaited them. She was certain, however, that he would be there for her, and though she had thought them on different sides of a bitter life and death struggle, he had shown her that they were more alike than she had thought, and that he would provide shelter from the horrors that lurked around them. He would protect her, and give her the ability to confide in someone that she so dearly needed, and knowing that helped.

As the sun broke more than halfway above the horizon, beginning yet another arc through the skies, peering down with minor, morbid curiosity on the battles raging under its gaze, the three wanderers set out on the final leg of another chapter in a journey whose end they were not sure of. All that was certain, however, was that they would need to fight for what they had.

The hub loomed in the distance, its massive spires and elegant curves contributing to its imposing yet graceful architecture. It appeared to be unused, with no sign of activity in the area except for lost belongings littering the fields surrounding it, dropped as the displaced Eldar people fled from the approaching storm.

"Throne of Terra. Will you be able to get us through there?" The structure was massive, and without proper guidance Andron knew that he would grow lost very quickly.

"Do not worry, I will, though what concerns me is what might wait inside." Aureleth was unsure whether or not they would find Imperials or Eldar inside, but coming across either would likely have dire consequences for them if they were unable to avoid being seen. Though her methods of waging war were almost entirely oriented on charging straight into the jaws of the enemy to tear them apart from the inside, that option was no longer viable in most cases. She would have to remain unseen, as would Andron and Eruwen. They began walking towards the spires across the last stretch of open field.

As they walked, Andron realized that he had never been in a place quite like the Plains of Ildanesh. They were, as far as he was concerned, perfect. The only structure punctuating it, and even so fitting it nicely, was the transport hub in front of them. Though it was not of nature, it integrated with the surrounding area, becoming one with, rather than fighting, the area around it. What did not complement the plains, however, were the possessions and personal belongings strewn about their route. Pouches, bags, works of art, and a plethora of objects whose purpose Andron was not quite sure of littered the area. Among the forsaken items, he realized that he saw little to nothing that he would have guessed belonged to a child. Though thousands had fled, there seemed to be little evidence of children among them. He voiced his observation to Aureleth.

"Yes, Eldar are… reserved… regarding that. The," she paused, obviously awkward on the subject despite her newfound experience with it, "process is quite… complicated," she forced the sentence out of her mouth as if it were some strange object she were wriggling out from her teeth.

"In what way?" His curiosity got the better of him.

As blood vessels in her face dilated violently and blood poured into the upper layers of her skin, she dearly wished she had donned her helmet which was attached to her belt and hanging at her side. She spoke very reservedly. "I… it takes a long time."

"What like a few hours?" The tiny part of his mind that operated at ork-level intelligence was elated at the idea, and he quickly beat it back into the mental cave he had made for it.

She coughed in surprise as she realized what he thought she had meant, quickly specifying that it was not so. "No, no. It takes years," she clarified.

Andron was fighting the ork tooth and nail. He recoiled slightly. "Y… years?"

She forced herself to take her eyes from the direction opposite him and gauge his reaction. She realized that what she said had not helped in the slightest. She came close to blurting out her amendments. "I meant… it happens in stages. I do not know much about it. It is extremely rare."

"Oh. You did say something about a lack of intimacy… or even a hug. Hell even I got that and my childhood was by no means great. Why, though?"

"That will take far too long to explain now." She would have liked to, but they were approaching their destination and would reach it momentarily. She resumed scanning for anything they might have needed to take note of.

"Alright, then." He thought for a moment. A question, whose answer would hold immense weight for his future, formed in his mind.

"So… are children… rare?" The idea was oddly unsettling to him. The thought that a race of people was essentially allowing itself to die out in a long, slow, passive form of mass suicide was very disturbing. He waited for an answer, and noticed that she sighed in response before turning to look at him. She looked saddened.

"Extremely. For us, children are a very rare sight. They are rarer than… anything. I'd find it almost laughable if it were not so morbid. We had had everything; we'd ruled the stars. We were everything mankind aspires to be, and alas, we squandered it. Through our own greed, lust, and blind groping for thrills and new heights, we fell from our perch atop the universe, and landed on a precipice, where we are barely clinging onto our existence. We still have our technology, we have preserved some of our culture, though it was that culture that made us who we are, but we lack the most fundamentally important thing to any civilization… to any species: children… a future…" She paused, casting her eyes to the ground, and sighing slowly before continuing, returning to meet his gaze. "We are afraid, Andron. We fear ourselves, and live in the shadow of that fear constantly. We're dying out, and we know it. Almost by choice we are letting ourselves wither and die. The topic is largely avoided, but if not addressed, we will disappear into oblivion. Yes, Eruwen is indeed one of very few."

As Aureleth spoke to him, he was nearly overwhelmed with the responsibility he felt being placed on him. Or was he taking it by his own will, he wondered. Eruwen had already seemed so fragile to him, so precious. He had no idea of her true significance. She could be the last child left alive on Yul'Te if what Aureleth was saying was true. The thought horrified him, a world without innocence, full of only those with hearts blackened by the deplorable world that they, humans, the Eldar, all of the beings of the galaxy together had forged in fiery hatred, malice, and anger. There had already been little to no doubt in his mind as to what he would give to ensure that Eruwen never had to suffer again, but his revelation only increased his convictions. Unconsciously, he placed his hand on the child's shoulder as they walked, and felt her muscle tense before relaxing under his touch. She did nothing to shrug him off, a sign of their newfound trust. He would honor that with his life if he had to.


	17. Beginnings of War

**Okay, so this one's one of my shortest. So sorry it's only a tiny little thing, and that it too me damn near a month to write it, but I've been doing so much lately that I'm just running around like a chicken without a head. Please don't lose faith, I'm still here and I'll never, EVER abandon this story. I'm always thinking about it, even if I can't work on it as much as I used to. So, please spread the word about this, tell people I'm not dead, and don't forget me... my god so many drunk people are walking by my dorm it's ridiculous. Anyway we're finally out of the Plains of Ildanesh and are moving into the Hub, where... stuff's going to happen. Not sure what yet, but stuff will happen because, well, stuff happens... and stuff... Soooooo, at a measly 2,588 words, I present to you chapter 17. I'll keep trucking away, and while updates wont be as much as they used to, I'll try to stick to my old schedule, even if that means they have to be shorter. This might seem short, by the way, but remember it only describes maybe a twenty minute span of time. Just saying :P**

**So here it is. Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your faithfulness and loyalty.**

**~Advicepuppy**

They stood at an archway with two massive and ornate open doors leading into a darkened lobby with a ceiling vaulting up into blackness. The other wall was barely visible, with only tiny remnants of the outside light reaching across the nearly four hundred yard span to illuminate it. The grotesquely elongated shadows of three figures stretched along the floor before having their backs broken as they were dimly cast against the wall opposite them. Their footsteps echoed into emptiness as their eyes adjusted to the lack of light. The floors were deep shades of purple and black inlayed with streaks and curves of shifting colors that changed as Andron scanned over them with the light mounted on his lasrifle. He pointed his rifle up, and the beam of light was swallowed by the seemingly endless space above them. There was nobody there except for them. Even the floating orbs of light he had seen on the streets were absent. He stood in awe at the imposing beauty of the architecture around him. He had never seen something quite so peculiar in nature as how endless his surroundings seemed, as if space expanded as he entered the hub.

Aureleth was the first to dare to break the silence that had been growing suffocating. "From here, we are linked to every other hub in the entire craftworld. The most logical conclusion would be that we should make our way sternward, as the only reports of contact that I recall hearing were towards the front of Yul'Te. We need only make our way to the bays, where we can hopefully find a way of escape."

Andron, still staring into the blackness as absolute as space itself, responded affirmatively. "Which way do we go?"

Aureleth thought for a moment before indicating a smaller arch a short distance along the wall from them. They carefully made their way towards it, making sure to remain close to the wall with Eruwen between them, lest there still be anyone with them that they were unaware of.

After several minutes of walking and scanning the walls with his flashlight, they had made considerable progress towards their goal. Andron swept his light back across the walls, revealing a turn to the right ahead of them. He put himself right at the corner before leaning around and turning his lasrifle down the hall. He illuminated the riddled corpses of several Guardsmen, blood having formed pools around their soaked forms, tunics and equipment sodden and caked with the once life-giving substance. They say, laid, and slouched against walls and on the floor, their faces contorted into screams of agony, surprise, or blank stares as they had been as their final moments of life had drained away.

Andron recoiled back into cover, thumbing the safety off of his lasrifle as he held his other hand out to indicate for the others to stop. He felt his fingers subconsciously tighten around the grip on his lasrifle, his knuckles turning white. His heart pounding, his breathing rate increasing, he felt his adrenal glands begin to pump directly into his bloodstream.

"Stay back!" he hissed through almost painfully gritted teeth. He was concerned that Eruwen might see. Though they would have to pass down the hall, he wanted to do all that he could to ensure that she was as untainted by war as he could keep her. The child had already seen enough, and he feared that if she were to witness any more of the horrors of war, her fragile soul would be shattered. Given the newfound significance that she held, he could not allow such a thing to happen.

"What is it?" Aureleth had already drawn her weapons.

"Bodies. Get her; don't let her see." Andron indicated the child.

Aureleth took Eruwen by the hand, comforting her, and told her in her flowing tongue to cover her eyes. The child obliged, squinting them shut before the three of them turned the corner and into the bloodied hall.

They advanced slowly, careful to keep as quiet as possible, in the event that they were not alone. With the addition of Eruwen, they had to be even more careful than before to avoid combat of any kind, lest they put the girl's life at risk. Andron led the way, with Eruwen in tow followed by Aureleth, weapons drawn and ready for the worst case scenario. Andron scanned back and forth over the walls and bodies, taking note of their injuries. Their wounds were grisly. For many of them it was obvious that they had been made to suffer in their final moments.

On the edge of his hearing, the sound barely struggled into his ear, expending the last of its dying energy carrying the last of an equally deathly human scream through the halls. Andron stopped immediately, the lasrifle flicking to his shoulder and instinctively scanning all potential concealed areas down the hall. The beam of light sliced through the darkness and dust, scanning walls, more bodies, more contorted faces, and more blood. It seemed to take an eternity for the scream to fade as the remains of the dying soldier's last sound echoed and faded through the halls, heard by only three lost souls as his own was released. They stood in absolute silence, and it was then that Andron noticed the faint sounds of machinery. It was a soft hum, continuously purring as proof that the hub was still in fact in working order. It sounded nothing like the deafening roar of his own peoples' clanking, coughing and barking contraptions. Another scream reached them, starting at a pitch before rising sharply to a peak before it was cut short by the sound of a shuriken rifle discharging its deadly hail into its victim. Andron stole a glance behind him, and saw that Eruwen had covered her ears in addition to screwing her eyes shut. He subconsciously noted that as a function of their shape, she covered her ears differently than he would have, aligning her longest middle finger with the pointed part of her ear in order to completely seal it. That thought was quickly suffocated again by the urgency of their situation. They were not alone, and those that were with them were armed and had no qualms about taking lives. Whether or not they would care that Aureleth was one of them, and that they had a child was another matter entirely, however Andron would not put his own life at risk if it was unnecessary. Then again, he thought, was any of the bloodshed necessary?

They continued walking for several minutes without incident, Eruwen in between he and Aureleth as they held their weapons raised. The silence was almost tangible, only broken by the arrhythmic taps of their footsteps and the soft hum of the hub's inner workings, and while several corridors led off into different directions, Aureleth had told him that they were to continue forward. They had no idea where exactly the screams had emanated from. They reached a soft bend in their path, the hall curving up and to the left. Before they reached the base of the incline, Andron saw the pools of blood that had formed at the bottom of it, the deposits of the trails that led up the sloping floor and into unseen places.

Andron dared not speak above the slightest of whispers, taking into account the acute senses of their foe. Again, a small voice asked why he saw them as foe. Had he time to think, he would have settled on the fact that it was simply because they would kill him, and that they would do so because they were at war, and that they were at war because that was all that any of them ever really knew, and it had become embedded in them, permeating them, becoming them.

"Aureleth. I think they're up there. Are you sure there's no other way to go?" He barely exhaled as he spoke, trying to keep his voice lower than the nearly inaudible hum.

Aureleth shook her head. She had only taken the route they were currently on when she had travelled once to see the unveiling of an art piece when she had first walked the Path of the Artisan. She smiled inwardly as she remembered her wonderment at the beautiful work the artist had presented to them that day. Her mind returned from its momentary deviance, resettling on the matter at hand. Upon its second examination of what their immediate future held, she realized something that disturbed her. She would likely have to kill her own people in the coming minutes. Right next to Andron, inside of the one who he cared for most, a balance once thought infallible was put at risk. Though he would not know or see for some time, that balance would be threatened.

Andron gestured ahead, and they slowly crept up the pathway as Aureleth indicated for Eruwen to stay behind them. They came to another corner, leading off to the right. Upon reaching it and leaning around, they saw that it led into a small lobby. It was strewn with dead and dying, both Eldar and human. The only ones left standing, however, were Eldar. He could tell without standing on it that the floor would be slick with blood when they crossed it. Glancing back at Eruwen who, he thanked the Emperor, had kept her eyes closed, he remembered that she was barefoot. A groan reverberated around the lobby, reflecting off of the curves and edges before being funneled to them through the entrance to the hallway. Footsteps followed, light taps accented with the splashes of blood droplets on floor and congealed life. The groan rose into a grunt of frantic effort before erupting in a piercing wail of agony that was cut short with the furious shriek of a shuriken rifle. Andron winced at the sound, his hands tightening around the grips of his rifle. He glanced back at Aureleth, who was crouched in front of Eruwen, a hand placed on the girl's shoulder. She returned his look, and they both understood that the best course of action would be to wait for the soldiers in the lobby to leave before they moved. They could not be sure how many there were, but in his short glance around the corner he had seen only three. If they were only Guardians, and had not at one point been more specialized Aspect Warriors, then they might have stood a chance, however he was unable to determine that.

They sat in absolute silence, trying almost to phase out of reality. After an eternity of tense waiting, the footsteps faded down the halls leading to other areas. Andron leaned round the corner, looking into the lobby, and saw the second most disturbing sight of his life, though not by a large margin. Before he was able to take in more of what lay in front of him, a screaming chainsword clove down through the air tods his head. The chainsword came down, but his neck was no longer there. Andron watched from his new position sitting on the floor in the hall they had been hiding in as the weapon bit into the floor with an ear-piercing screech. He remained where he was in shock for a precious fraction of a second during which his assailant leapt through the doorway at him. Andron reached for his rifle, though he knew that without any further delay to the Eldar's progress, he would be dead.

Aureleth had acted, and in doing so had exposed herself to Andron's assailant. She had no time to retreat back to darkness, and was going to be seen. All she could do was hope that the fight would not end with their deaths. She had already stood, using her energy to propel Andron backwards, and had leaned just within the Eldar's path. His shoulder collided with hers, and he turned to address his newfound assumed enemy as he readdressed his priorities. The sword began a whirring cut upwards toward her neck where it would continue in an arc to plunge into the groveling human's chest as he scrambled for his weapon on the floor. It would take a split second. The sword came to a halt, however, the whirring blades barely skimming her suit, taking only layers of paint away. The warrior skidded to a halt, and stared at her, stunned. What he had seen was something he had never expected, something he never had even considered to be such a horrific possibility.

Andron cursed himself for being so slow compared to them. His heart seized when he saw the warrior coming towards him, and his entire life seemed to do the same when Andron saw him begin to swing towards Aureleth. The sword froze, however, right at her neck, but his finger was already constricting the trigger.

She felt it. Through his mask and through hers, directly into her very soul, she felt his pleading eyes, his silent screams begging for an answer. She felt the sorrow, the pain, the sadness, and her mind recoiled at the confused anger that began to assault her from behind his helmet. She felt the heat, saw the red glow envelop half of his head as he continued to look at her. She saw the room flash red, and a slight afterimage of a red lance were all that remained through her eye gems. As she followed the trail it traced, Aureleth noticed that it continued through the Eldar warrior's throat and into the lobby from which he had come. At that moment she saw the flecks of blood and bone being vaporized from the heat of the lasbolt as it punched through his head, creating orange embers of burnt trachea that floated before disappearing a split second later as the head began to throw itself to the side, pivoting on the neck. The same scene repeated itself, three more times as lasbolts destroyed the warrior's head and chest as the wielder of the weapon frantically fired at an assailant several times faster than he. The warrior jerked with each impact. A sickening silence enough to make her want to vomit crushed them, broken only by the chainsword's dying whir as it was no longer connected to its user's soul. The inert blade slid down her shoulder and clattered on the floor before the soldier followed, his head impacting the floor with a wet and hollow thud that echoed throughout the halls and lobby for what felt like lifetimes.

The dying soldier tried to speak, but all that escaped from his cauterized was blood and a wet gurgle before he died on the floor, staring into the face of the greatest betrayal he had ever had the horror of witnessing.

Aureleth stood in stunned silence as her kin lay dead in front of her, slain by the man she had fallen in love with. Reverberating in her mind was what she felt when the soldier had looked at her. She did not want to think of it.

Eruwen had seen red through her eyelids, and though her ears had been covered she had heard the snap of Andron's lasrifle. She was unable to stop herself as she opened her eyes to reveal the dead Eldar soldier with smoldering las wounds peppering his neck and chest, as well as Andron as he sat, his breathing rate gradually slowing, a lasrifle in his hands.


	18. What of the Rest of Us?

**Okay so I'm kinda picking up the pace again here. This one's about 6k for you guys (Fudging those numbers a bit, but you're not gonna count them :3 ). They're on their way to wherever, to do whatever, because in the middle of the giant shitstorm that is the battle for Yul'Te, they don't really know exactly what the hell's going on. College is amazing, and I've been having an absolute blast so far. My classes are fun, my teachers funny, and there's a party every night (which I skip to write this fairy-tale crap for you needy people.) So, life's grand, and I'll start on the next chapter soon. This story as I go on, I've noticed, is getting deep. And I mean really deep, with lots of complex stuff going on in terms of character development, and other things. In addition, I'm going to start going into the larger scope of the battle. Just a heads up, planning an entire war and weaving these characters into it is going to take time. I think, however, that I might have a way of doing that. This next chapter will be my exploration of this method. What I'm saying is that I'm going to introduce a separate story arc with some new characters. Tell me what you think in the review section. I know it might sound weird, but give it a chance. This war is going to get nuts, and in order to do that as I said, I'll need time. Sorry if this turns into a slog of slow updates, but I'll try my best. Again, to my faithful readers, thanks so much. You are what gives my work meaning. Also check out my friend cobhc94's works. He writes Sonic the Hedgehog and Pokemon fanfics, and is working on a Batman one based on the new movie. I think he should include Robin in it though. You should tell him that.** **Until next time, here's something to occupy yourselves with.**

Absolute silence reigned once more, only fought by the faint thrum of machinery and Andron's gradually slowing breathing pattern. Aureleth stood leaning forward, having yet to move from colliding with the since dead Eldar soldier, silent. The world had constricted to a space the size of a prison cell, where a dark reality was beginning to coalesce into existence, spawned by a sick irony of war and death. Blood continued to pump from the warrior's shattered and burnt arteries, dripping onto the floor with deafening splashes despite a fall of only a few inches. A small pool began to form at his neck.

Andron had thought that he was going to die. Again though, Aureleth had saved his life, and he hers. His heart pounded, blood drumming in his ears as his hands slowly loosened their vice grips on his lasrifle. It suddenly weighed as much as a starship in his arms, and it clattered to the floor. He hated killing. He truly loathed it, and he realized that every time he had taken someone's life… he had always considered them like himself, not some_things_… it had hurt him. He found no glory in slaughter and death. Even when they had come under attack in the streets and he had shot one of the Eldar from the roof of a nearby home, he had followed the dying warrior to his final resting place with his eyes, understanding that he had ended a life just like his own. His eyes fell from where his attacker had been to where he now lay, dead in a pool of his own blood as the red liquid, just like his own, went from pumping to dribbling from his veins. Andron flinched at the sound of each drop impacting the puddle that had formed below his neck. He wanted nothing more than to escape all of it, to leave them to kill each other while the three of them found better lives, or even existences that could even be considered lives to begin with, elsewhere. He had to suffer through it, though. He was doing it for them, for their survival. He had to. A tiny movement caught his eye off to his right. He looked and found himself staring directly into a gaze he had only seen in shell-shocked guardsmen, only it was a child.

Eruwen stared with a mixture of morbid curiosity and utter shock at the corpse that lay in front of her. She had heard it… _him_ as he had tried to suck his final breaths through his shattered neck. He lay in a growing pool of his own blood. It was slightly brighter in color than the deep crimson of that human's blood. It dribbled from his veins and arteries which were slightly charred and cauterized along their edges where the lasbolt had pierced. Smoke curled up from blackened, smoldering holes in his chestplate and neck armor, the visual avatar of his soul as the body turned into a husk, devoid of any life. With a disturbing sense of connection she realized that he had been staring right at her as he died, his head tilted to the side, the eye gems of his helmet pointed directly at her. In the dim light, she saw herself in their nearly immaculately polished surfaces, her face bulbous and distorted in their rounded shapes. They drew her in, their deep red hue, and the way she saw herself in them. She took a step forward, reaching out to them, not sure what she would fine within their seemingly endless depths as they showed her herself from the eyes of the dead.

Andron saw her reach out, stepping forward. She had the same emotionless expression, the one that, though seemingly devoid of feeling, conveyed more about a man than any he had ever seen before in his life. It was the look of someone who was dying; dying not in body, but in soul. It was the face of someone who had seen the dead, and looked into their eyes, seeing themself, being made aware of morbid truths no mortal, let alone a child, should have to comprehend. It was someone who was on the edge of life, drawn by the dead to join them, to become one with them even if their body still walked. He could not allow that to happen to her.

"Eruwen," He tried to sound as calm and soothing as he could, but he had nearly been killed, and had just perpetrated the act himself. He could barely conceal the emotions that were running wild inside of him, as they always had. The only difference was that he had time to think. He was able to dwell on what he had done, whereas in other cases he had simply had to keep killing in order to stay alive, ignoring the small voice in his soul asking if it was even worth it, taking so many lives so that his own might continue. From where he sat, he reached out to the child, whose eyes darted to his hand before she turned and ran, each footstep away from him like that of a titan on his heart.

Aureleth stared ahead, where the soldier's eyes had been. All she saw was a wall. Where life had once stood, lay death. In her mind she relived the last moments of the warrior's life, feeling the emotions, hearing his thoughts, seeing what he saw, smelling the death that he had partook in. The single question he had asked her nearly brought her to tears. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of bare feet padding against the ground and the scuff of boots that followed. She turned to the source of the sound.

She was so confused, which only compounded the fear she felt strangling her. She was unsure as to exactly what she was afraid of, whether it was the body, or the fighting, or if a sickening reality had shattered what she had tried to embrace in its stead, but she felt fear welling up inside of her again, threatening to destroy the fragile sense of security that she had found with Andron and Aureleth. She simply wanted to run from it, to escape it in the only way that she saw how at that point. Even then, however, in the back of her writhing mind, she questioned whether or not it was futile. She wondered if it would follow her wherever she went, if there was no escaping from what surrounded her. Why would Andron kill an Eldar if he so loved Aureleth and her? Why would an Eldar kill him if he were so beloved to her and Aureleth? Her thoughts were interrupted by the gentle yet almost unyielding grip of arms around her. Part of her wanted to cry out, to panic. She knew why, yet it also puzzled her. So much conflict surrounded her and permeated her, and it was not only in the form of swords clashing and guns firing. She felt a conflict within her as well. The consequences of that conflict were too much for her to think of at the time, so she ignored them, hoping that they would simply disappear. She knew, however, that they were far too close to simply fall into oblivion, and that it would likely not be long before they reared their heads once again to roar their horrible message into her face.

He couldn't lose her again. He'd been given a single chance to try to atone with her, to attempt to mend what had been nearly if not completely destroyed, and he was about to lose it. He had no idea what he was going to say, how he would explain what he'd done… if it was even possible to explain what he'd done. As he planted his feet in the ground and they slowed to a halt, Eruwen wrapped in his embrace as he held onto her as if she would disappear forever if he let go, he began to wonder what exactly he _had_ done. He had been inches from death, and would have died had he not acted, he told himself. He would simply have to tell her that, would he not? A small shift in the light around the corner thirty meters ahead indicated a moving source of illumination. Its harsh color was familiar to him; it was a lamp on a lasrifle.

"Oh no…" he breathed out. He leaned back as hard as he could, attempting to throw himself in the direction from which he came in preparation to sprint for his and Eruwen's lives. His eyes locked on the corner, he saw them as they rounded it. There were only a few of them, and they appeared to have been in combat very recently. Their faces were grimy, their uniforms covered in ash or torn in areas, the muzzles of their lasrifles capped in dark scorch marks from being fired. He felt Eruwen's efforts to escape him cease as she froze in fear at the sight of the humans rounding the corner, their weapons raised. A split second before he completely turned himself around to run, he first of them locked eyes with him. All that was to be said was said in an instant; however it took precious seconds for Andron's new enemies to understand. In those seconds of astonishment, and the time it took for their lasrifles to flash to their shoulders, and their fingers to squeeze the triggers, he had almost completely disappeared behind the corner from which he had originally come. Red lances of death chased after him, leaving red, superheated circles in the wall that slowly began to cool to a deep black. As the air around them expanded from the flash of heat, the sound of the lasfire reached him, the familiar snap like that of a whip the voices of the guardsmen that chased after him. A single lasbolt nearly found its mark among the numerous rushed shots that chased him, the beam vaporizing the sheen of sweat that had formed on his cheek as it passed. He grunted in pain as Eruwen let out a cry of alarm, gripping onto him with all her might.

Aureleth had been kneeling by the fallen warrior's side, having finally found her ability to move again when she heard the gunfire. She had simply stared into his dead eyes, trying to find an answer to his question. "Why?" He had asked. No, he had begged, she remembered. Though it hurt him, she knew, she had done what she had for their love, and for Eruwen. She had no time, however, and stood, his soulstone in her hand. She placed it on her person before donning her helmet and retrieving her weapons. As she turned, Andron rounded the corner, frantically trying to escape with Eruwen in his arms. She admired how altruistic he was, always with the good of others on the forefront of his mind. She did not harbor the same sentiments at that moment, however. They needed to fight. Running would only get them killed in the lobby or longer halls.

She rounded the corner, ignoring Andron's shouts to follow as he scooped his lasrifle from the ground and stopped to turn to her. She stared down the hallway to find four humans with raised rifles advancing towards her. The mere sight of her, however, stopped them dead. Amid shouts to take cover and fire, they dispersed, making themselves as small targets as possible against the walls and swinging their lasrifles to bear upon her. They were only twenty meters away, and from there she could see the fear on their faces as they assessed the great threat she posed. Judging by their condition, she assumed that they had already faced others. Her chainsword screamed to life, and she crossed the distance between them in two bounds.

Andron watched in confused horror as Aureleth turned the corner directly into the enemy's line of fire. He had confidence in her ability, and had seen it first hand against more than four foes, however the thought of her being hurt again worried him immensely. He placed Eruwen on the ground and put himself against the wall before leaning around to fire down the hallway. He was midway through squeezing the trigger when the first of them died.

Propelling herself through the air, she contorted around their aim, lasbolts searing paths through the air around her. She landed on her knees, leaning backwards, her chainsword held out, and slid past the first of them. The sword passed through his legs, and he fell into a screaming, thrashing, bloody heap, his contracted finger squeezing the trigger on his rifle, sending red bolts streaking wildly around the hall.

Andron squeezed the trigger, and his lasrifle responded with a bright red flash that blinded him for an instant in the otherwise dimly lit hall. The red beam lanced towards his target at the speed of light, and vaporized the fabric and flesh over the man's heart before the superheated water inside of his cells explosively evaporated, and his chest burst in an eruption of hot red mist, his most vital organ utterly shattered in the blast. He was propelled into a spin, his rifle discharging into the wall, leaving a red hot mark where his last futile shot impacted. He landed face down, his body twisted as his muscles no longer had any control of his limbs and his pain receptors having stopped preventing him from exceeding the limits of bending them. Andron adjusted his aim to fire again.

From the slide, she leaped forward, discharging her shuriken pistol into the chest of her second foe as she passed. The blades sang through the air at hypersonic speeds, and sliced into the guardsman's chest, sailing through his tunic as if it were not even there. The shuriken passed through his skin and deflected off of, or embedded themselves in his ribs as the others shredded his muscle and internal organs as they began to tumble inside of him. The blades burst out of his back, wrenching chunks of flesh with them, and carrying fragments of bone and his vital organs onto the wall behind him. He crumpled to the ground, sliding down against the wall with a gurgle and a look of shock.

She returned her attention to the last of them, who stood in front of her. He had been adjusting his aim, chasing her with it as he fired his lasrifle on full auto. She looked into his eyes. They were widening from almond-shaped eyes of hatred to widened, circular orbs of panic. His teeth were gritted, his youthful face covered in dirt and grime and sweat. She kicked out with her foot, deflecting the lasrifle away from her, and landed on him. He fell backwards with a shout of alarm, her foot firmly planted on his chest. They landed with a bone-crunching thud, and he spent his last seconds alive staring into a faceless, emotionless, and all the more terrifying helmet. The impact had punctured one of his lungs, and a mist of blood erupted from his mouth, painting his face a bright red as the droplets returned to him. She raised her sword, the teeth spinning at blinding speeds, slinging gore from its previous victim along the walls in lines, and stared into the man's face. Though she wore her helmet, she could see it in his eyes that he saw her staring into his very soul. A torturous second passed as she looked into him.

He was young, but noticeably older than Andron was. His eyes were widened in fear, as he knew he had mere seconds to live. There was no longer the fire of hatred in his gaze, nor the sparkle of religious fervor and youthful anticipation of glory. In his eyes she saw the same primal reversion to fear that she had seen in nearly everyone she had killed or seen killed. There was only impending death. She could have spared him, she could have spared everybody she had ever killed, but the consequences of doing so would have outweighed the benefits of ending their lives. She suddenly remembered what she'd said standing by Andron's side as they watched Eruwen be consumed by her grief, and her feelings as she watched Grohm Harkin die. Each life she took had consequences, and without her war mask to absorb war's dark aura, she would have to personally bear every single one of them. The man under her, however, would have seen her dead, as well as Eruwen and Andron. Aureleth plunged her sword into his chest, directly through his sternum.

A geyser of thick red blood spewed from the soldier's mouth as the teeth wrenched his lungs and solar plexus apart and catapulted them to the ceiling from its blades in bloody chunks. Some of it sprayed onto her, but she only focused on his face with grim satisfaction as he died. She wrenched the sword to the side, pivoting it on its point that was embedded in the floor. The shift allowed the whirring teeth to bite further into the man's chest, causing even more damage to the already doomed soldier. He attempted to scream in agony at the movement, for it increased the pain tenfold. He only gurgled and coughed blood into the air, however, several droplets reaching up to her face, carried by the force with which he convulsed. She remained that way for several seconds before wrenching the sword from her victim's utterly destroyed chest. The teeth slowed to a halt, shredded strings of muscle and tissue hanging from them, dripping blood onto the floor as the weapon hung loosely in her hand at her side. Each drop impacting the ground was deafening in the silence that followed. She exhaled a shuddering breath, and stared at the corpse.

Andron lowered his lasrifle, all of the targets having been killed. In their midst stood Aureleth, her armor splattered with blood, the deep crimson contrasting sharply with the green and yellow of her armor. In her stance, he saw the same feelings he had had after he'd killed his assailant only moments earlier: regret. He was not intimately acquainted with Eldar culture, but without her war mask, he knew that she would have to learn to cope with war the way he had to, and to suddenly have to do so would not be easy for either of them to address. He knew not else what to do, so he simply called out to her.

Before it was etched into her memory, Aureleth was disturbed by the clarity with which she remembered the moment she had killed that final man. Every detail was embedded in her mind, to remain there permanently. She had killed before, she thought. She had slain many in her lifetime, but for some reason she was troubled by her last opponent. Why, though, she wondered? Andron's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Aureleth…" He knew not else what to say.

Eruwen stared at Aureleth. Her elegant green and yellow armor, her graceful form, was splattered and covered with blood, chunks of muscle and flesh, and other parts of those that she had killed. She stood, her sword dripping blood and gore, a smattering of blood droplets on her helmet, pooling and collecting at the lip of the featureless faceplate underneath angrily slanted eye gems. Eruwen felt fear, fear of her own kind, fear of Aureleth, who had saved her, and loved her as much as Andron had… her mind returned to him, and then to the body of the Eldar he had killed, lying in a pool of his own blood and staring at her as the life drained out of him. She was afraid of him too. She was afraid of death, and the body, Aureleth and Andron were at that time to her one with death. They killed, just like everyone else did. They killed, just like the other humans did, just like the other Eldar did, and just like the humans that had— Eruwen was overcome with horror, all of the solace she thought she had found in the face of war and death having been false. There was no escape, not even with the ones she trusted, for they too were a part of war and death. Tears flowing freely down her cheeks, she turned to run, only to realize that she had nowhere to go. She was trapped, more so than she had previously imagined. She made it several steps before Andron noticed her and moved again to stop her from fleeing at which point her legs gave out and she fainted, her last memory while conscious being the room spinning as he caught her falling by one hand and she pivoted about before he pulled her into his arms.

Andron turned back out of impulse and saw the wild look in her eyes. He saw that she was going to try to run again, and reached out to grab her. He had her one hand in his own before he realized that she was falling, and quickly pulled her from her path towards the hard floor and supported her. Her sudden loss of consciousness broke him out of the emotional and physiological limbo he had entered after combat, striking panic into his heart as his immediate thoughts were that she had been shot. He quickly took her slender wrist, feeling for a pulse as he realized there was a considerable chance he would not find one due to simple physical differences between them. He was, however, relieved to see that she was still breathing, and quickly checked her for wounds before letting out a long sigh of relief.

Aureleth felt Eruwen's despair. She had even seen the way the child saw her, such was the nature of their kind. It horrified her. She was utterly revolted by what she saw. Aureleth saw murder, hatred, death, and pain. While she had seen them before, she had never seen them in herself, and it was then that she realized that she had lost control, even if it only manifested itself in the smallest of upward curls in her lips after a single, cruel twist of her arm as she killed her last victim. That had been her. There was nothing else that had done that, no alter-ego designed for war; only her. She herself had killed with hatred and malice. It had been mainly in defense, she knew, but there lied something dark beneath her actions, and it frightened her. She could not let it happen again. She knew the consequences of becoming one with one's war mask, but there was nothing to guide her in dealing with the loss of it, and having all of the darkness and fire of war poured directly into her soul unfiltered and unchained. They needed to leave. She needed to leave that place.

"Andron, we must go. Do not worry for Eruwen, but we must leave now."

He stood, the child in his arms, worry plastered on his face despite her assurance. He noticed a darkness to her demeanor as she had said it, and it concerned him in addition to his already present worries.

"Where to?"

"This way," she indicated the direction through the lobby, still filled with the dead.

Andron was thankful that Eruwen had fainted, for she would not have to bear witness to what lay inside. Together they continued on towards what had been their destination for the past several days. Where it would lead them, however, they were unsure. Aureleth had said she had some thoughts, he knew, but ultimately they could not plan too far ahead save for the goal of survival, and even that was not necessarily long-term. He would do what was necessary, though, to ensure that they remained safe. They began walking, Andron stooping to pick up his rifle as he had dropped it while catching Eruwen. He prayed that he would not need to use it again, if only for Eruwen's sake as it would mean risk to her. They returned to the entrance to the lobby, and stood for a moment as one did when confronted with the sight of a massacre. The walls and floor were slick and coated with blood, the air stank of death, and he could nearly taste the iron tang that lingered in the air from the drained bodies. Careful to keep Eruwen from contact with the floor, or any surface, her head nestled into the crook of his shoulder and chest, he followed Aureleth through the dimly lit halls. Silence reigned once again, and was again only challenged by the distant and soft thrum of machinery and flowing energy. Aureleth walked ahead of him, and he noticed a hurried manner to her pace and gait. It was almost as if she was fleeing at a walk. They continued in that manner for ten minutes, neither uttering a word, lost in their own thoughts. Andron's were consumed with what he would do to explain what he'd done to Eruwen if it were even possible. They were not even able to speak the same language, though he supposed he could use Aureleth as an interpreter. He cast that idea away, however; it would seem disconnected and insincere if he were to do it in that manner.

He looked to Aureleth, who was scanning entrances and potential cover as she walked, her hands tightly gripping her weapons. She seemed truly internally distressed to him, and it was evident that she did not want it to show. He would have to ask her what was troubling her so. A thought entered his mind which he had not considered before, but thought himself a fool for having not. He had not even considered, due to having so little time to think of it, the fact that she was in different standing with her own people than he was with his. A pit of ice formed in his stomach. He had killed one of her kind right in front of her. It had been in self-defense, though, and she had intervened in order to save his life. When they first came into contact with other Eldar together she had vowed that she would protect him with her own life, and did so with a very thinly veiled threat of violence against them in order to do so. Andron was unsure. Had something happened, he wondered? He would speak to her about it when they got a chance. Surely Aureleth would not deliberately hide her emotions from him, no matter how much they might trouble him.

She could not stop her mind from jumping between the two painful memories she had just acquired. One surmounted the other, however, and took its place at the forefront of her mind.

_Time froze. The mask of his helmet faded away, exposing his face, as did hers. She wore a look of worry and urgency combined the blank expression one wears while in combat. She tried to avoid looking into his eyes, but they sucked her in, and it was impossible for her to avert her gaze. Within her, thoughts and ideas she had cast aside, and had been suppressing in her quest for peace suddenly began to stir again, brought back to life even if just a little by the Eldar warrior who stood before her in ceased time. She saw agony on his face. It was contorted into a mask of horror and revulsion, hurt and sadness, shock and betrayal. _

"_What have you done? What is this treachery?" He cried in horror._

_She was unable to speak, not by any sort of restraint imposed on her by an outside force, but simply because she could not say anything in response to him._

"_You consort with the enemy!"_

_It was then that she found her voice. "He is not my enemy, nor yours! He is…" her voice left her again. She knew what he was to her, there was no doubt in her mind, however she could not bring herself to simply shout it at the outraged soldier who stood before her._

"_Are you blind? Look around you!" He threw his arms in the air in a sweeping gesture, indicating their surroundings._

_All she saw was fire. Fire and death laid in every direction. She looked around her, and saw the culmination of Yul'Te's spiritual network. In times of peace it was used for communication as in times of war, and it was alive with shouted orders, situational reports, and every aspect of contact necessitated by the war that engulfed Yul'Te. She saw the war raging at the head of the Plains of Ildanesh at the border of the Dome of Falling Skies. The front held, yet there was evidence of potential breakage at other points in the surrounding area. The Imperial lines had spread from the docks, outward to the port side but were facing heavy opposition from Eldar forces, while even more reinforcements were gathering sternward to be sent to fight. Each set of reinforcements was a family torn apart, a suitor or spouse sent to war, a brother, a sister, a friend. The Imperials were gaining ground, slowly, but their fight would by no means be easy. That, however, was an afterthought. She stepped back in the spiritual hell she found herself in, and saw Yul'Te as a whole in its majesty. Stepping back further, she became aware of its surroundings. Space itself was aflame. Thousands of ships, both Eldar and Imperial fought in the blackness around them. Streaks of light flitted in and out of existence, lancing between ships over tens of thousands of miles as tiny pinpricks circled and danced around each other and travelled between ships before blossoming into bright circles that faded as quickly as they appeared. Yul'Te was utterly engulfed in war. She felt something falter within her. It was only for an instant, but it was undeniable that it had been challenged._

_He continued on his tirade. "We are at war. We are fighting, dying, sacrificing everything we have so that we may live another day. These, these… barbarians," he spat the word with venom in his voice, "have come to destroy everything we have, and they will, including our very souls if we do not fight." He paused, before resuming. "Yet here you stand, not only not fighting, but protecting one of them. There is no time for thought, for morals, for what you think is right. This is time for war, and we must fight for our very existence against these fiends, and your selfishness is hindering that!"_

"_No time for morals, or thought?" She could not have objected more to his claim. "That human you so despise, his morals are what allowed her," she indicated Eruwen, the girl's image fading into their world before disappearing again, "to live! Why must we kill everything indiscriminately? Why must we fight constantly? When there is a chance for peace, no matter how small, is it not wrong to not cultivate and guard it? All this galaxy knows is war, but we have found a way to surmount that. We have on numerous occasions. He even spared MY life!" Aureleth was adamant to Andron's defense. She could not stand idly by while he was killed. He vowed to protect her, and she did to him as well. It was not merely for mutual benefit, but out of love. Together they had found a sanctuary away from all of the hatred and violence bred by those around them that could not see through the distorted lenses of lies, fanaticism and contempt that turned them against each other. She would not let him be wrongly accused of being one of them._

_The Eldar looked at the child. She was afraid, and radiating innocence. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands covered her ears, he knew, to hide the bodies and sounds from the lobby. The little girl's jaw was clenched as she strained against the darkness trying to envelop her. He felt a moment of softness in his battle hardened soul at the sight of her. There was no purity like that of a child. One of the few left that constituted the future of their people stood before him, still alive in the midst of the fiery hell of death and war. The thought that a human would defile one revolted him. But why then had the human spared her? Perhaps hehad found time for morality in his blink of a life. He did not want to stoop to their level by being so closed-minded, and therefore considered the possibility. Even so, even under those ludicrous circumstances, war would not allow it to last._

"_Very well, then. He spared your life, and the child's, but what about the others? Will there not be more to come that he will not spare? Even if it is not with malice, even if he would rather die than take any of our lives, he will. How many of us will die for your little delusion of peace while the rest of us fight for our lives?" He looked away from her, towards the direction he had been running before they had entered the world in which they spoke. He frowned, before turning back to her. "You have a duty. As an Eldar you have an obligation to fight for the survival of us as a people, as a species. Will you throw that away, throw us all away, for—" he never finished his sentence. Aureleth had been unable to see, but he had frowned because Andron had raised his lasrifle. _

_Aureleth's vision was consumed by a blinding red light that grew from the warrior's throat, her ears assaulted with a sound like that of a roaring wind that grew in intensity until it was physically painful. The fire disappeared, flashing away as she was returned to reality._

Aureleth's bodysuit quietly squealed around her knuckles, rubbing against the skin of her fingers, pulled taught by the force with which she gripped the handles of her weapons. She gritted her teeth, before relaxing again as they continued to walk. Her craftworld was under siege, in the middle of a massive battle where tens of millions of lives were at stake. They walked on in silence, dark emotions circling around them.

"Aureleth," He gently spoke her name. They had reached a fork in the halls, with runes on the wall indicating something in either direction.

She jumped, barely, but enough for it to be visible. She took a quiet breath, and nodded to the right. "This way. We will be there shortly."


	19. The Motley Crew

**Introducing some comic relief/"more in touch with the world" characters. Through these guys I'm going to explain the tides of battle to the reader, and give information that might be a real pain through Andron, Aureleth, and Eruwen. More characters might come, but these guys will be featured in the future as well. Don't worry, I'm going back to the three main ones soon. I've just had a LOT on my plate with finals (summer session at college ended), going back to college (in a week), my instrument rating (Flying), and other obligations (DayZ and the Planetside 2 Beta). Thanks so much for reading in advance, and I hope you enjoy this rather fresh breath of air and a change of pace from depressing/moral dilemmas to more lighthearted (while still grimdark) things. Aaaanyway I hope you enjoy. I like these characters, as I think it shows another side of how people cope with war and the way it affects them.**

The fires had spread. Over the preceding several days fighting had intensified in the confines of the city, during which Imperial forces had managed to push through a fraction deeper into the urban sprawl. Columns of thick, black smoke rose from various sources scattered across the landscape, obscured behind and below spired buildings, some broken and burnt, others maintaining their majesty in the face of war. Through the streets advanced Imperial forces, seeking to oust the Eldar defenders. Fighting was somewhat sporadic in nature, however, consisting mostly of ambushes, hit-and-run attacks, and skirmishes between small forces that came into contact almost by chance. Beneath the towering spires and curves of the city of Korvashil, designated by the Imperial forces as "Thunderhead" due to its tactical importance as a staging area from where attacks could be mounted, rested an armored convoy as its commanders coordinated their next move. Among them was a squad of Guardsmen who had been disconnected from their unit in the suburbs before finding their way back to their parent company. They sat against the hull of a Chimera and on emptied ammo crates whose contents had been loaded into the troop carrier's weapons moments earlier.

"Why, in the Emperor's holy name, are you cleaning your long-las, Eyes?"

Bren Darmerth continued to diligently maintain his treasured long-las, ignoring for the likely hundredth time his comrade's shot at his perceived "questionable for qualification as a marksman" shooting abilities. His long-las lay field-stripped in front of him, its major components still assembled but exposed enough to be serviced as he peered down upon it with sunken eyes in a hairless skull. On his remotely aquiline nose rested thick-framed spectacles with thick lenses that distorted his eyes noticeably when looked at from in front.

"We've already told you it's not the rifle," Krell Merthlow pressed. He was rewarded with a venomous glance from the sniper, who had been given the sarcastic nickname "Eyes" because they felt it necessary to remind him that it would not have made a difference if he had none.

"I could hit you from here you prick," Bren replied with a smirk, drawing laughter from the rest of his squadmates. It was true, he knew, that he was by no means the best of marksman, but he didn't necessarily choose his job. He held the firm belief, however, that when it counted most, he made his shots despite numerous misses on most other occasions. Though he often was the butt of jokes regarding his skills, or lack thereof, Bren's comrades knew that when it counted, he would make the shot. What they did not know was exactly how he did so.

"I dunno, that has to be at least four feet, Bren," Krell replied, providing another burst of energy to the laughter that had been dying.

"Gak you," Bren muttered, exasperated but failing to hide the amusement in his voice.

Krell turned to Johlem Hroken, a hulk of a man who stood at nearly six feet and four inches. Johlem had a face gnarled from innumerable fights with anything ranging from drunken brawlers to his notorious battlefield fistfight with a Gretchin whose humorous and deadly results were talked about even years after it had happened.

"Say something about me," Johlem rumbled, "and I'll shove that vox so far up your ass you'll transmit everything you say. And knowing how much you gakking talk, you wouldn't last long until Commissar Broden put a bolt in your eye." He stared down the smaller man, straining to keep a neutral expression. He nearly succeeded, but after six years of service together they could all read each other with ease. Laughter erupted among them again.

"Sergeant's back," muttered Rahm Tristos, an average-sized man in his early twenties with sharp features and layer of stubble covering the lower half of his face.

Sergeant Merl Dolan took a seat next to Krell before laying a dataslate on a small ammo box between all of them. He pressed a button on its control panel and waited the several required seconds as power was given to the screen. It flickered several times before warming into life, displaying a glowing green map of Thunderhead.

"Just talked with Commissar Broden, and I've got our itinerary for the next couple of days." The occasionally flickering green image enlarged itself, focusing on a row of triangles indicating the position of their convoy. "This," he paused, "is us." He reached down to the display and turned a dial, widening the field of view to encompass more of the battlefield. A sharp red line cut the city nearly in half, the area on one side of it the same hue as the line itself representing the Eldar forces being larger. "As of now, we are still at a slight disadvantage against hostiles in this area. The 3rd and 5th regiments have been pushing all day, but are being met with heavy resistance here," a red "X" appeared slightly into the green area of the field, along the line. He took a moment for them to comprehend the slew of information he was putting out.

"We have also marked any sites of combat within the past twenty-four hours. Those blinking are still active as of the report I just received ten minutes ago." Among a slew of marks that had appeared along and near the front, with a considerable amount deep behind friendly and enemy lines, most were blinking. "We're at a stalemate here, and it's our job to break it. The 12th Dimian Brawlers are currently locked in a skirmish with hostile forces roughly five miles east of here. That's where we're headed. They're getting pushed back and without reinforcement the xenos bastards stand a chance of pushing through. But," he smiled coyly "we won't let that happen. We're moving out in a half hour, sync your chronometers to mine. Right now it's 14:23. We've got this place split in half, but in urban warfare you all know that doesn't mean a warp-damned thing. These grox bangers are fast, and we've all seen how they can pop up anywhere." He indicated the dataslate, which proved his point with its plethora of markings indicating fighting that was in reality all over the city, and not along the front, which had really been placed there more as a subconscious indicator of their perceived progress in securing Thunderhead than anything else. "Any questions?" He addressed the nine others in his squad.

Krell voiced his, silencing anyone who might have been considering doing so at the same time. "Is there any word on our push out of the west end of the docks?"

"Yes, actually, there is. I haven't heard much as it's not necessarily relevant to us at this time, but it's a lot of the same everywhere: deadlock. We still don't even know if they're deploying their full forces, however given the size of this place I fear that they might not be. Commissar Broden said he'd keep us posted on overall progress, so I'll send it to you as I get it. As of now, though, the West is stalled, but we're gaining ground out of the South. As for us in the East, well you know what it's been like. Twenty miles that way," he indicated the direction of the Dome of Falling Skies, and the stalemate that had been there for nearly a week, "not a damn thing has moved in the past few days. We gained a bit of ground a few days ago but they pushed back, and we're back to where we started. Those plains out there are empty except for any reinforcements that might be on their way to the front. If we can capture Thunderhead, it will be a point from which we can stage a flanking attack on their front. That's our job, and that's what we're gonna do."

Silence settled amongst them as they contemplated their duties. They were to be thrown into the jaws of death in the name of purifying the galaxy of the xenos taint that threatened to destroy them. They would fight diligently and with fierceness that could be matched by no other. They were one with the 82nd Jovian Roughnecks, and between the ten men that sat in a circle, as friends, brothers, and cogs in an unstoppable war machine, they would overcome any obstacle put in front of them. They steeled themselves, understanding that despite their courage, there was always the chance that some or all of them might die that day.

Sergeant Merl Dolan, veteran of numerous campaigns, a man who had the lives and deaths of many credited to his name, sat and stared at the map displayed on the flickering screen. The war was almost at a stalemate, but they were slowly making progress. As far as he knew, the battle raging in space fared similarly. With a fleet of over a thousand ships, he would have thought that they could have crushed any naval force they went against. What he found most surprising about their situation, however, was that they were aboard a planet-sized vessel. Though it was technically all naval warfare, and they were boarders on a naval vessel… it was just so massive. He looked at the sun, the clouds, the sky… The fact that there was even a sky to begin with was absurd.

Johlem preferred to carry a heavy stubber, and though its weight was considerable, it had saved his life and that of his squadmates more than once. It was an older pattern weapon, its age showing cosmetically, but he felt it gave the venerable weapon character, also making for a nicer background on which to notch the lives he'd taken with it. As it stood, the entire left face of the receiver was covered in tallies. He kept its internals working flawlessly, however, which he again inspected at a glance before reinserting the belt of stub rounds and racking the bolt with a resounding series of arrhythmic clacks. He smiled at the sound. He glanced up at Bren, who was still meticulously cleaning his long-las. Johlem almost felt compelled to laugh at the sight.

"So," Krell broke the silence that had settled between them, and much to the Sergeant's visible despair. "Is there any word on when the rest of our forces are going to land? And do… do you think they'll even summon the Astartes?" His voice had become reverent at the mention of the most elite warriors humanity had to offer, taking on a softer and more quiet tone, absolutely lacking of its usual sarcastic wit.

"No clue," Dolan answered with a sigh. "I certainly pray so, but right now we have to tip the scales at least somewhat in our favor. The Astartes might even be used as a spearhead for doing so. If I find out, I'll be sure to let you know."

Krell nodded before taking a drink from his canteen. Mid-gulp, the container still tilted back, he stopped and glanced in Bren's direction. He was still obsessively scrubbing away at the focusing lenses on his long-las, and their already nearly immaculate surfaces had begun to squeak as he rubbed them with a cloth. Each pass he made emitted a barely audible squeak that had slowly been intruding into their range of awareness, and over the course of a moment, they all, one by one, stared at Bren's hands. Not a word was said, as their minds became drawn in by the maddeningly hypnotic nature of the repetitive sound. Johlem was the first to free himself of the spell.

"I swear on the Golden Throne itself if you don't stop that I'll replace your eyes with those lenses." His low rumbling voice brought the others back into reality, who simply waited for Bren's likely amusing response.

"You'll thank me one day. When it matters most, this thing'll work." Bren retorted with confidence.

"We all know the _long-las_ works, Bren," Johlem replied, stressing the reference to the weapon.

"Frag you."

Krell interjected. "It's at _least_ eight feet to him, Bren!" A moment of escape was once again created in the form of laughter erupting among them as they shared a bit of solace. They were trained to be fearless, with the hearts of warriors and courage given to them in service of the Emperor, but even they needed ways to maintain their sanity. Everyone did. And those that couldn't quickly found themselves lost in the hell that surrounded them. It was a funny thing, the relationship between squadmates. It transcended friendship, brotherhood, and every other kind of coexistence one could make with another, however it exhibited aspects of all of them as well. They knew each other's' emotional and personal "weaknesses" and exploited them to no end. Normal people would probably kill one another after a short period of such a relationship, however it only strengthened theirs. They were a group of friends, fighters for a common cause, and brothers in arms.

"What about air support?" Bren was curious as to any reinforcements the might have been receiving, his chronically quasi-paranoid nature taking control of him at the moment.

"It's us and this," he nodded down the convoy. Lately there've been issues with air superiority, though I have confidence that it will be worked out soon. Like I said, expect anything from an ambush to a full-on assault. We _are_ going to fight, but we're also going to _win_."

They spent the next twenty minutes discussing the terrain and confirming that all of their weapons were at their best. When the time came, they boarded the Chimera with 12th Squad, a band of similar composition, and with a resounding metallic thud they were shut inside.

The sound of engines roaring to life ran up and down the line, and the blocky, armored vehicles jarred out of a resting state. The troops inside were rocked to the side with the force before the Chimeras rumbled onward towards their objective.

"Back into the fire," spoke one of the soldiers from 12th, a man in his early twenties, with an obvious unenthusiastic tone to his voice. Numerous grunts of approval and acknowledgement sounded above the throaty roar of the engine in response. Their respite from war had been short-lived, and only spent in planning for more war. That was the way they lived their lives; through fire and death, pain and suffering, with the camaraderie they shared to keep them alive.


	20. Contact

**_Hey, Just updated this one so as to not waste space. Just letting you guys know that the wait will only be a bit longer. Exams have picked up and unfortunately this coming chapter's regrettably short. Anyway I hope you enjoy it when it comes out. God I wish I could have more time to work on it but I'll consider myself lucky if I can break 3k on a chapter now. If you want nice long ones like before, well that'll take some time. Anyway I'll keep trucking away at this, and as for length I'll do what I can _**(giggity)**_. I know it's been nearly a month, but I'm really weighed down with crap. So please hang in there, and maybe you should get up from you computers and go outside or something as I'm sure you've been waiting this entire time anxiously for the next release :P_****  
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**Alrighty, here's another one about the IG boys. This is not the end of their story, and it sure as hell isn't the end of Andron and Aureleth's. Sorry I took so long, but... well yeah I've said it before, and I don't want to sound like a broken record. Anyway, next chapter is going to go back to our three favorite people. Hopefully it won't take so long :P I've been having a severe writer's block, but I finally got over it, so I have the next few chapters for them planned out well. Expect severe writer's block AGAIN, however, in a few chapters. I want to keep this going as fast as I can, but that means that I'm going to hit walls... big ones. Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and please leave your reviews/opinions on these guys. I will tell you, however, that I feel that they are capable of being an important plot device. You guys are what keeps me writing, so I thank you again from the bottom of my heart for your kind words. I also have (while studying for a biology exam) spawned an idea for an original story. I may start working on that one day. If I do, I'll be sure to link it in here (it's not a fanfic). Anyway, hope you enjoy. I wanted a kind of "Band of Brothers" urban combat scene feel to this one.**

"I can't feel my arms," Bren remarked above the continuously roaring engine of the Chimera. He had been the first into the vehicle and was followed by Johlem, who nearly crushed him into the firewall between the troop compartment and the driver's cabin.

"Stop bitching, Eyes, we'll be getting shot at soon enough."

"Shut up, Kr—" Bren swore loudly along with the other occupants of the armored troop carrier as one side descended into a crater, throwing them side to side as it rocked back to its original position.

"I swear," Rahm shouted, "half of our casualties come from riding in these damned things!"

Merl chuckled before calling for a weapon check. Everyone responded in kind by slapping power cells into their rifles, racking bolts, checking power levels, feeding belts of ammunition into the chambers of their weapons, and in Bren's case dusting off his scope as well for the nth time. Numerous affirmations of their readiness were shouted throughout the cabin.

"We're one mile out. Be ready for anything," Merl charged his lasrifle to punctuate his remark.

The Chimeras trundled through the cityscape, passing alien homes, shops, and other buildings comprised of odd architectures and ornate design that had no visible purpose to its existence. The inside of the troop transports grew quiet, or as quiet as they could be with the roaring and coughing of the crude but effective engine that powered the vehicle.

They stopped, with only a hundred yards from their position to that of their pinned comrades. They would reinforce and if possible flank around their adversaries. The metal slab that covered the rear entrance to the Chimera fell to the ground with a loud thud, serving as a ramp as two squads of shouting guardsmen stormed out of it. They fanned out, forming a semi-circle around the rear hatch with Krell, Bren, Khan, and Rahm raising their rifles as they kept combat stances and assumed their positions. They were followed by the slower but far more imposing Johlem who merely stepped out of the Chimera and assumed his position, his heavy stubber pointed in the general direction of possible enemy positions; not even close to standard procedure, but perhaps even more effective. Behind them came 12th Squad, and lastly Merl Dolan who, in accordance with the Imperium's perhaps unnecessary-at-times air of arrogance, stepped out of the vehicle and calmly surveyed his surroundings. It was an almost codex insertion, and would have been perfect had it not been for Johlem's procedure as well as Merl's developed lack of pomposity.

Gunfire, both the sharp crack of Imperial lasrifles to the ear-splitting shriek of Eldar shuriken rifles, echoed throughout the streets. Occasionally they heard a shout, and even less frequently a scream. As a single unit they began to advance down the debris-strewn street toward their objective. They took on a loose formation so as to reduce the effectiveness of explosives, each squad keeping to itself for the most part. Smoke had fallen from the columns emanating from various points all around the city, forming a thin layer on the ground that turned into a slight but noticeable haze as one's altitude increased. At head level it restricted visibility to three hundred yards. Sunlight formed lancing shafts that streaked through the smoke, casting elongated projections of buildings, spires, and rubble all around them. It was as if they were walking in two cities at once, one a bombed out alien hive, and the other an eerie, ethereal

In passing a home that had been utterly destroyed in the fighting that had taken place there earlier in the day, Krell felt it necessary to quip about its brightly colored interior.

"For fairies and clowns, they sure put up a fight. Where we come from people like that usually get their asses kicked. I wonder what they do with their men."

"Shut the hell up, Merthlow," Khan sighed in fake exasperation as the rest of squad laughed.

"Krell I swear to the Emperor if you get us killed with your jokes I will haunt you for eternity."

"But sir," Krell said with a sarcastic apologetic tone, knowing very well what his sergeant's (numerous) responses would be, "when has my talking _ever_ nearly gotten us k—"

"Shut the frag up, Krell! Hostiles!" Johlem roared as he took a knee and faced towards a pile of rubble from behind which their foes had been hiding. His ammunition belt swung below his heavy stubber before he pulled the trigger. The weapon let loose with a storm of red-hot metal streaking towards their enemies at thousands of feet per second. A white fireball flashed in and out of existence at a blinding rate, strobing into different shapes each time on the end of the weapon's barrel. Around him, the expansion of the hot gasses from his weapon created a void in the haze that surrounded him. From the slowly growing, wispy-edged space of clarity came tiny tunnels that traced the paths of the bullets that made them. By the time the began to distort and be reclaimed by the fog, the stubber rounds had already begun impacting the pile of rubble, causing eruptions of dust, debris, and sparks to flash into being around his targets.

The rest of the two squads lowered their profiles, crouching, diving, and in Merl's case simply standing and returning fire. Krell swore loudly as his lasrifle snapped red beams of superheated energy towards their foe along with the phalanx of rifles he was a part of.

The Eldar returned fire, shuriken whickering from their shrieking weapons and slicing through the air around them from buildings and behind other piles of debris less than a hundred yards ahead of them. One of 12th Squad, a young man in his early twenties, was caught in the neck by a hissing blade. Its razor sharp edge passed through his neck, severing his jugular vein before exiting with a bloody cloud of red mist following it. He coughed in surprise, falling to the ground as his lasrifle discharged wildly, nearly hitting his comrades. He impacted the ground with a dusty thud, his blood mixing with the dirt on the street.

Inside the Chimera, the turret gunner was taken by surprise. He swore loudly as he racked the bolts on the twin-linked heavy bolters. He squeezed the firing studs, and the entire hull of the vehicle was filled with the shaking and roar of the two powerful weapons firing. They barked and kicked with each discharge of their deadly mass-reactive payload. Rocket-propelled projectiles streaked down the road towards their targets, ripping chunks of masonry and building material from the buildings the enemies were hidden in.

Merl roared for them to get to cover, and his squad followed. They split into two groups, one on either side of the street. They hugged buildings, pressed into crevices, and dove behind damaged and destroyed homes. As one, they returned fire, exchanging death with their adversaries. Johlem and Krell had ended up behind the pile of material that had once been the front face of a home. Johlem's heavy stubber roared with fury as he sent long bursts of suppressive fire towards their attackers. Next to him was Krell who supplemented Johlem's gunfire with his lasrifle and endless reserve of various insults to throw at the enemy.

Rahm and Khan snapped off shots from behind decorative trees, returning to cover whenever clouds of shuriken began to shred the air around them. The Eldar, numbering merely half of the Imperials they were attacking, switched some of their fire to them momentarily, forcing them to remain behind what little cover they had.

"Rahm! We gotta get the frag out of here now! I can see this thing chipping aw- GAK!" He swore loudly as a blade sliced a fraction of an inch into his arm. He squeezed further behind their deteriorating barrier, pressing into Rahm and forcing them to overlap.

At the front of the line formed by 12th Squad and Dolan's unit, the sergeant himself pressed against a large piece of debris that had been the result of a crashed Valkyrie whose wreckage was mixed with the remains of the home it had destroyed. He looked back after snapping off several shots with his bolt pistol to survey his unit. 12th Squad was similarly pinned as they were, however one of them lay dead in the street, blood steadily pumping from his severed vein. He turned back further. As he did so a shuriken impacted his cover, fragmenting and sending pieces of it slicing through the air where his eyes had been a mere instant before. He didn't notice.

"Gah, Emperor's arse!" Bren swore as his lasbolt went wide, impacting the wall nearly a foot away from the head of the Eldar soldier he had been aiming for. He settled again, adjusting his aim, and fired once more. The shot hit the Eldar directly in the chest, knocking him backwards out of view, obstructed by the roof he had been standing on. Bren smiled and reloaded.

"Norrum! Norrum!" screamed the sergeant of 12th Squad, his voice barely heard over the sheer volume and chaos of the din of battle. The target of his attention, a large man with a bandolier from which promethium tanks for his flamer dangled, turned towards his sergeant. "We're going to cover you! Get across there, get a frag grenade inside that top floor and flame the windows! Cull, you go with him!"

"On it!" Norrum hefted his weapon, squeezing and loosening his grip upon it in anticipation. He felt a hard pat on his shoulder at the same time the volume of fire from his squadmates increased heavily. He leaned forward to the point where he was forced to run lest he fall on his face. Using his momentum, he propelled himself into a sprint across the street, his tanks clanking together as he ran. Behind him was Cull, a younger soldier who carried a lasrifle. Both of them reached to their belts and removed frag grenades as they ran, the last of the Eldar fire whickering past them as their foes were suppressed. They skidded to a halt and slammed themselves against the face of the building across the street. They nodded to each other before hurling the grenades into the top floor. Two agonizing seconds passed before the grenades detonated.

The ground shook as the pressure wave thumped in their chests and ears. From the windows burst clouds of fire and black smoke and dust concealing swarms of shredded glass and debris. Pieces landed across the street, peppering the rest of 12th Squad that wasn't in cover. They hunkered down slightly more in the unintentional onslaught before resuming their firing. The superheated lasbolts turned the dust to ash as they passed through clouds of it, the heavier debris falling to the ground. Norrum hefted his flamer and squeezed the trigger, releasing a white hot jet of promethium that enveloped the entire face of the building. He swept it back and forth, leaving it on windows for several seconds each as the flames exploded into the house itself. It began to burn violently from the inside out. No more gunfire came from the area. What they did not know was that part of the reason the gunfire had stopped from that spot was that several of the Eldar had survived, and were relocating .

"Johlem! Krell! Rahm and Kahn are fragged if we don't get them out of there!" The rest did not need to be spoken, and the two fighters responded with a hail of gunfire towards the Eldar position that had been firing most heavily on Rahm and Khan. They shifted their rifles, Johlem hefting his heavy stubber to adjust his aim towards the higher window of what appeared to be a shop as the street turned into a market not far past it. In the split second they had spent doing so, their targets in the window had disappeared.

"Where did they go? They were there just a second ago! Frag, this is bad." Krell activated his vox bead to the squad and relayed the information to Dolan.

"Watch out, they can come from anywhere…" Johlem adjusted his fire to another group of ambushers located on a rooftop on the opposite side of the street from them. His targets had been firing upon 12th Squad, whose single casualty had grown to two. A second man had been shot in the chest and was being tended to by their medic. Johlem squeezed the trigger and his heavy stubber began to voraciously consume the ammo belt laying beside it, breathing a massive ball of fire from its muzzle. The individual cartridges turned into a blur as the belt was sucked inside before their empty brass casings were spat out of the ejection port, largely into Krell's face. They trailed smoke as they spun through the air and landed with hollow chimes as they hit the hard rubble, and elicited swears as they impacted the soft flesh of Krell's cheeks and neck.

From their left they heard the roar of 12th Squad's sergeant as he called for the fixing of their bayonets. Johlem turned towards the source of the call while still squeezing bursts of fire into his target to see Eldar leaping from buildings and windows into their midst. Johlem hefted his heavy stubber and turned it upon the warriors coming from the buildings across the street. As one leapt from a rooftop he shredded the soldier with a thirty round burst from his stubber. The corpse jerked numerous times as it tumbled through the air uncontrolled, red clouds of mist erupting from various holes in its body as the bullets tore into and out of the armored Eldar. Streams of blood were ejected from the falling body, casting flecks onto the walls behind it before the deceased warrior impacted the ground in a crumpled, twisted heap.

Krell looked to his left and fired with semi-controlled franticness at the approaching enemy. His lasbolts hit and missed various targets, but provided to the hail of fire that was being directed at their swift attackers.

Rahm and Kahn had sprinted from their cover to a more secure location on the same side of the street as Johlem and Krell. In doing so they had narrowly avoided death at the hands of the Eldar that were almost materializing from the walls where they had been. Nearly half a dozen emerged, while several remained in positions to suppress the Imperials that they had been doing battle with. The two men also turned their rifles on the attacking foe.

12th Squad was receiving the worst of the attack by far, simply being unfortunate enough to be largely on the same side as the origin of the second ambush. The Eldar tore into them with vicious speed, ducking below and jumping out of the way of lasbolts being fired wildly in an effort to stop them. With horrific alien speed and skill they began a wild and bloody slaughter of the Imperial troopers.

"Shoot them!" Dolan roared over the chaos. The Eldar that had been suppressing Rahm and Kahn had taken to the streets and were eviscerating 12th Squad. They were packed into an indiscernible mass of writhing death and war. Everyone there would have to die.

With a sigh being his only indication of emotion regarding discharging his weapon into a mob of his own kind mixed with the enemy, Johlem kneeled and began firing long, angry bursts into what had become of the slaughter in the street. With the angry baring of teeth, the wild-eyed look of someone in combat, or the blank stare of a man not realizing he was slowly killing himself as he did so to others, they all fired into 12th Squad and their assailants. Krell gritted his teeth as his lasrifle spat bolt after bolt into the mob, impacting Imperials and Eldar alike. Each shot that hit a human vaporized their tunics after boring through their armor. Then, the superheated water in their tissue exploded outwards as it was instantly turned to steam, violently wrenching bloody chunks of their bodies off of their skeletons. Bloody mist, fragments of shattered bone, and muscle erupted into the air, hanging ponderously in faint clouds for an instant before disappearing.

Johlem's stubber sent zipping clouds of death into the targets. Many glanced off of Eldar armor, fragmenting and embedding themselves in human flesh or kicking up dust from the ground. Rounds that found their marks slammed into them, expanding and pulverizing flesh and vital organs before erupting from the other sides of whoever they killed. Jets of blood and bone followed the shredded remains of the projectiles, leaving streaks in the dust and debris on the street. Those that were hit would continue to move as they had for a split second before their severed muscles, tendons, and limbs could no longer function and they merely jerked with the force of the impacts before crumpling into heaps. The whole event lasted but ten seconds.

The Imperials had been doomed the instant they were attacked at close quarters, however those that had to take the lives of their own found little solace in that. Later they would try not to think about it, or speak venerably of the "sacrifice" of the men that died. In the end, however, all that were left were vague memories of contorted faces, fearsome alien might, and the blood of young men being spilled. They were trained not to think of it like that, but it was impossible for the inner core of their beings to not do so.

The sudden attack had given the Eldar in the buildings time to reposition, and they continued to lay fire on Dolan and his squadmates. Norrum and Cull, the two surviving members of 12th Squad, sprinted to cover near Rahm and Kahn. Both of the survivors were nearing a trancelike state, brought on by the loss of people that they had fought with for so long. Cull's face was a blank slate, utterly devoid of expression as he snapped shots off at the attacking Eldar, now on both side of the street a mere thirty yards away from them. He spent considerably more time out of cover than the others, firing.

"Krell!" Dolan roared over the gunfire. "Get HQ on the vox, we need help, here! Are the fragging Brawlers even alive, still?!"

Krell hefted off his vox, exposing his hands and the vox itself in doing so. A shuriken sang off of the edge of the metal transmitter, leaving a perfectly cut, tiny section exposed through the paint. He swore and nearly threw it down next to himself behind cover. He removed the handset and called to the temporary base that resided within the convoy's location.

"HQ! This is 3rd Squad! We've encountered extremely heavy resistance, and are unable to progress to the objective!" A projectile impacted the masonry above him, raining a thin cloud of dust particles upon his head.

Commissar Broden stood over a glowing map of Thunderhead. The rune indicating 3rd Squad blinked, indicating that a transmission was being received from them. His vox officer, standing next to him, relayed the information to the Commissar.

"We need every foothold we can possibly get in order to achieve victory. Send them their reinforcements. The rest of us shall remain here and await tasking. 4th Squad is to assist them, with a Chimera."

The vox officer saluted, crossing the Imperial Aquila over his chest.

Krell waited several agonizing seconds under fire while his request was being processed.

"Krell!" Dolan called over his shoulder from behind the debris of the crashed Valkyrie.

"Almost! I'm still waiting!"

"Tell them to fragging hurry! These bastards don't wait!"


	21. A Falter in One's Grip

**At 10:00PM, on November 17th, 2011, I posted the first chapter to Suffer not the Xenos to Live onto this website. My faithful, beloved readers, it has been one year since then. I would like to personally thank WolfPaladin, lazylegionspark, and Imperial warlord, who have been with me from the very beginning, Wolf and Lazy literally from Day 1. **I have no idea when I'm going to end this, but don't expect it to be anytime soon. **Here's to another year of Suffer not the Xenos to Live!**

**So, it's been nearly a month-and-a-half since I last updated, and I don't want to seem overapologetic. I don't want to make excuses, either, but I have said before what's needed to be said. My life is quite full now, but I certainly have not forgotten about this. **

**Aaaanyway I decided to combine chapter's 21 and 22, I hope you don't mind. 22 begins right after the line break about halfway down. It'll seem like filler, I know, but there is some character development in there. Next chapter will either be the boys in the guard, or Aureleth and Andron finally getting some time to talk together (thanks to Eruwen conveniently passing out :P ) So, here's 21/22, and I hope you enjoy it. Next chapter will come up whenever. Who knows what awaits our 3 wanderers as they approach an Eldar city? War? Death? Happiness? Sexytimes? I don't know. Why? I haven't planned that far yet (piss off ;) ) **

Andron was trying not to lose his composure in his frantic contemplation of what had happened in the preceding hour. Right in front of Aureleth, he had killed one of her kind. Right in front of Eruwen, he had shot the warrior numerous times. Each life he took weighed on him heavily, though he felt that the single warrior he had slain would have a significance in his life more powerful than any other. He angled his eyes down to look into the relaxed mask of Eruwen's unconscious form. He pitied her so horribly. He looked up to Aureleth again, her footsteps echoing throughout the halls. She maintained her pace, passively trying to avoid him as if she herself did not even know what she was doing. He wanted to call out to her, to ask her what was wrong, but there were in fact more important issues at hand. They would have to wait.

"_You have a duty."_ Aureleth suddenly found herself standing in blackness. She did not panic, however. It was a familiar world. She took several steps in a direction that beckoned her, and in the distance the galaxy of feelings, memories, and thoughts that constituted her as a being manifested itself. It glowed enough so that its brilliance and beauty was something to behold, yet it was soft enough to not be painful to her eyes. She approached it, intrigued by where she so suddenly found herself. As she approached the edge, the stars separated, singing on the edge of her hearing in ethereal chimes. She continued towards the core, and towards what she held most precious to her. Even amid the intense light which was approaching the point of being uncomfortable from so close up, one star shined more brightly than all of the others. It had been dim and neglected for nearly two centuries, but a single human had changed that forever. She reached out and cradled it in her hands, its warmth bringing her immense comfort. She stood smiling for a moment before returning it to its place.

Aureleth still felt that she had not fulfilled her purpose in going on the journey into herself, and so continued to search. She walked around the core, examining it carefully. She passed familiar stars, and constellations that comprised important facets of her being. They seemed different, however, and she returned to them. Duty, discipline, and the parts of her that had made her a warrior were all located in a single constellation of being. The chain was broken, however, with one critical piece missing. That one piece that had maintained its stability had disappeared, and in its place was darkness. It was a small spot, smaller than her palm amongst the tens of thousands of other stars and shining orbs that made her. From it, however, grew wispy tendrils of the same blackness that had crept outwards from its origin. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it.

She was snapped back to reality by the sound of footsteps. That would not have been an issue, however Andron had stopped walking shortly before she did. The sounds continued to echo ominously through the halls. Immediately, she began to search for a place to hide. There were several small passageways that led off in other directions, and from the way the sound was coming, retreating into one of them would conceal them from whoever was approaching. She slinked into the cover of darkness down the nearly black path, followed by Andron, the unconscious girl still in his arms. Andron positioned himself behind her, farther away from the main hall down which they had been travelling. After several moments, they heard the distinct sound of human voices.

Immediately, Aureleth's hands darted to her weapons, and she felt that same hatred well up in her again. It was still not anything that would consume her, but it was by no means unnoticeable. A part of her began to strain against its mental and moral chains, and her hands unconsciously squeezed and relaxed their grips in rhythmic cycles as she silently dealt with her slowly awakening inner demon. It stirred, beckoning her to leap out at them and to slay them with every bit of hatred she could muster. She fought it, however, maintaining her composure in the delicate situation in which they found themselves. She could not lose herself, for it would mean the death of all of them. She also could not even begin to predict what exactly the consequences would be for her, spiritually and emotionally. She had never been faced with such a challenge before, one that required her to carefully monitor and control a core part of her being that had been made unstable. If it collapsed, she could be capable of anything, and would have no control over it. Such was the nature of her people. Even if she would rather die than commit some of the acts that could result from her loss of self, there would be nothing stopping her from doing so. Aureleth knew that she would have to come to understand what she was feeling, and what power it held in order to ensure that she would not hurt anyone close to her. She remained where she was, teeth clenched, hands tightly clasped around her weapons, and silent as death itself. She turned to look back at Andron, who was still holding Eruwen's light, unconscious form. They were concealed enough so that unless one of the passing guardsmen shined a flashlight directly at them, they would not be seen.

"Hey, Rin." The man's voice echoed down the hallways.

The man, Rin, simply grunted his response.

"Any word on Thunderhead?"

"It's a total clusterbang. We have a foothold, but the place is crawling with the bastards. It's mostly patrols against patrols while we try to set up more permanent bases from what I've heard. Why?"

"Just kinda wishing we were in the thick of it up there. Sounds like fun. Besides I haven't even seen a rat around,"

"Well, Dorn, we're here. Besides, if they're using this place as a checkpoint for transporting supplies, we need to deal with it. No sense letting them throw more and more at us when we can just cut it off at the source… or at least closer to the source. And why in the Warp would there be rats here?"

"It was a joke, and Rin that almost sounded like a solid plan. Are you sure command told us to do this?"

"Shut up."

"I could probably throw all of my frag grenades right now and nobody would hear but us."

"You don't know that, Dorn. We don't know how many they have here. I mean this is an entire frigging world after all. I think it's a bad idea that they split us up. We're fragged if these guys show up…"

"Here's to hoping for more rats," Dorn replied, the nervous edge pushing its way into the threshold of being noticeable.

"The rendezvous point is up ahead. We'll take the next left."

Without any more conversation from the two passersby, they made their way towards their destination, unaware that the encounter that could end their lives was mere yards away.

They entered Aureleth's field of vision, no longer obscured by the walls on either side of the branching hallway in which they hid, though she had heard them coming long before. The one in the front appeared to be again of Andron's age. He, too, had a thin layer of stubble on his face, though it was patchy in distribution. A smattering of tiny scars, marks, and nicks covered what exposed skin on his face there was, giving him an almost feral and abused appearance. The man behind him was similar in complexion. They had both seen combat, and had had little to no time to maintain themselves. They were deep within the grips of war, it having already taken much toll on them physically. She noted that there was not much variation in age among guardsmen when compared to the vast difference in seniority that was found in Eldar forces. She almost felt something bordering on sympathy for the young men. They had been tossed by their superiors into war, and furthermore into uncharted territory where death lay around every corner. Those thoughts were quickly forced out of her mind by the recent memory of what else she had witnessed. Her hands twitched, reflections of her inner desires. She questioned whether they were something she should, or even could think of as desires. She would not let it control her, however, and remained where she was, even if it was difficult to do so.

Andron, with Eruwen still in his arms, watched as the two humans walked by. He found it strange how he regarded them so differently after the events of the preceding week. He no longer saw them as like him, or at least not in the same sense he once did. He did not feel as much of the attachment that had once bound him to them. As they drew closer, and came fully within the cone of visibility allowed by the narrow branching corridor in which they hid, he heard every bit of their movement. The faint sounds of the metal buckles on their vests tinkling against the gunmetal of their lasrifles and their sweat-logged feet shifting within their boots as they stepped suddenly grew louder as the sounds were funneled towards them louder. From the two breaths the men took, to the swiping sound of their leggings rubbing against themselves, he could hear everything. All else was deathly silent save for the two intruders within that silence. They were utterly fixated upon by his mind. He held his breath as they walked by, not daring to move even his diaphragm. A painful few seconds passed during which time all that was between them was darkness before the guardsmen were again out of their field of vision.

For reasons that Andron would never be able to comprehend, the man in the rear turned and looked directly at him. Through a blanket of near absolute darkness, Andron felt their eyes connect. The only moving muscle he had left seemed to seize in his chest as he prayed to whoever would listen that he was the only one who knew he was staring into someone's eyes. He absorbed every detail of the soldier's dimly lit face, the information being seared into his memory unwarranted, likely because he thought he was going to have to kill the man. His hazel eyes, set recessed under a pronounced brow, dimly reflected what light there was in the hallways. He, like Andron, had all of the ailments of an infantryman, from his worn appearance to his tired gait still making itself known through his otherwise standard stance. The soldier's brow furrowed ever so slightly as he subconsciously registered a presence, that he was in fact being watched. The realization was lost amongst other thoughts, however, and merely faded into oblivion as he turned forward once again as he continued to walk. The sounds of their footsteps faded, and the three waited for several minutes until there was not a sound left save for their own constrained breathing.

"He looked right at me," Andron barely whispered before sighing away the near state of panic that had been building up in his chest.

Aureleth, who had been leaning around the corner watching them, simply looking into the direction they had gone long after they'd disappeared, peered over her shoulder at him.

"What do you mean?" They had been utterly hidden. There was no way he could have seen them, which was evidenced by nothing having happened.

"I mean he stared right into my eyes. I don't even know what happened, but he looked right at me and kept walking. Emperor's blood…"

Aureleth only nodded in response, obviously distracted by other thoughts as was indicated by her pensive frown. "Come, it is only a few minutes away." She entered the larger hallway once again, and beckoned for him to follow.

Andron hefted Eruwen once more, shifting her back into a more stable position in his embrace. Her legs dangled over his arm, while her head lay against his opposite shoulder. Ahead of them, the hall opened into a hub in which several sleek, elegant looking vehicles were stored. He found it interesting that public transportation was piloted by the individual and not, say, someone paid to do so as it were in the Imperium. Aureleth strode across the massive expanse of the area, their footsteps echoing endlessly throughout. Directly across from where they had entered was another hallway, almost two hundred yards away. In directions roughly perpendicular to them were tunnels that ran off into absolute blackness. He assumed that they would be taking one of them, and hoped that they would have a source of light as it seemed that those in the tunnels themselves were no longer functioning.

Aureleth inspected a speeder, one of many neatly aligned in rows, suspended several inches off of the floor by grav stabilizers mounted into the floor that allowed it to fully deactivate without coming into contact with the ground when its own disengaged. A soft blue light emanated from each of the stabilizers, and as she approached the light grew in intensity as those on the craft itself engaged. A soft hum reverberated throughout the hub, and the craft rose another inch off of the ground before the stabilizers in the floor went dark.

"Come, we need to hurry." Her voice was saturated with suppressed stress and confusion, and she could only hope that Andron would not notice it, but she doubted that would be the case. She stepped into the left seat, and beckoned Andron to enter on the other side. He turned around, Eruwen still in his arms, and jumped backwards into the seat before pivoting himself around to face forward. The girl remained dormant as he adjusted his grip on her again.

"Where are we even going? Do we know?" Andron realized that the goal of nearly the past week had been attained; they were at the hub. He had, however, no idea what to do next.

"No, we do not. I think, however, that it would be best to go sternward. The only docks that were attacked were towards the bow as far as I know. Hopefully we will be able to avoid this longer…"

Without another word, the uncertainty of their perilous situation enough to silence her, Aureleth set out for the farthest away place that she knew of, their destination completely under her judgment. The journey would take several hours, most likely. She almost wished that the respite would be shorter, for it would not allow her to ponder the events of the past several hours as deeply as she knew she could not help but do. Her mind flashed back to the discovery she had made within her soul, the small black blight that she saw on her soul seeming to glow ominously as light escaped from around its edges. She gritted her teeth, her grip tightening on the controls.

* * *

><p>Cool, but stale-smelling air whipped past the open sides of the vehicle as Andron kept Eruwen secure in his arms. Some of the forceful current reached into their compartment and flicked the ends of the child's hair that hung over her face. Andron looked down at her, and found himself lost studying her face. She looked so incredibly fragile, even more so than Aureleth. He knew that unlike, or possibly like the woman he loved, she in fact was a very delicate soul. Eruwen was but a child, having seen nothing save for peace throughout her entire life up until the week before that had shattered that world right before her eyes. He carefully kept a watch on her breathing, though he suspected that there was little reason to worry that she could lose her life from whatever she had suffered. It was likely simply the result of the immense amounts of stress that had been building up within her, ripping through her body and soul to the point where she was unable to fight the horrors she had been witnessing, and fell unconscious in a vain attempt to escape it. Andron was surprised that she had made it as far as she had, given that even he himself felt the effects of the preceding week wearing away at his composure. He squeezed her shoulder where his arm wrapped around her.<p>

He pitied her so horribly. Even he could say that his childhood would easily be considered incomparably happier than hers given what had been wrought upon her… by his own people. He supposed that that again was something that pained him as well. Again he was reminded by his memories of the past week that the atrocities inflicted upon her were the result of the actions of his own kind. Andron wondered if it was selfish to feel the way he did, if it was wrong to feel what he thought might be self-pity due to something he had no way of controlling when his only pain was being biologically related to those that had utterly obliterated the life of a child. Looking down at her, he again was reminded that they were in reality not too terribly different from one another. He had seen some humans who looked more alien than Eruwen. That did not matter though, he supposed. Regardless of who he was, he had been given her life to take into his hands, and he would do everything he could to protect it.

Though she would almost certainly recover as fully as was possible given their circumstances, he was just so horrified at the prospect of losing her that the mere thought of it threatened to compromise his resolve, and as a result he found himself checking her pulse again. It was becoming a repetitive ritual that he found some odd sort of comfort in. He leaned down and placed his cheek near her face, barely feeling her warm breath before it was whisked away by the air circulating within the cabin. She was alive; a fact he was very well aware of and had been aware of. Still, he felt a compulsive need to be sure that she was okay.

Andron leaned his head back against the head cushion on the panel behind him, sighing deeply. The memory of her face as she looked at him after he had shot that Eldar soldier in front of her burned in his eyes. It was like nothing he had seen before; nearly devoid of expression, stunned as Eruwen herself was, yet able to convey through her ever so slightly wide-eyed stare that something she had been holding onto had been greatly shaken if not utterly shattered. He was at a loss as to how he would explain his actions to her or if it were even possible for him to do so. He had worked his hardest to earn the trust of the scared, timid child, and had finally achieved that goal. Now he was likely to have lost all of it, if not even more. The sickening irony of what he'd done was that he had killed someone that would have likely helped her to protect himself, so that he could then protect her. He almost huffed a half-hearted laugh at the thought. Was that even justifiable? Why not let them take her? Why not leave her where she belonged, among her own? Certainly, given her significance, there would be some place that would have been prepared for children in the event of a war erupting on the craftworld. He asked why several times to himself, but each time he had no answer. Each time, he was left with a void in his thoughts. Was he somehow better than them to protect her? What had he that they did not? He was unsure, and that uncertainty bothered him.

He glanced over at Aureleth who remained intent on getting them to their destination. He would have to talk with her later, he thought. They would discuss a lot, he felt. A split second in time replayed through his head. She stood over a dying guardsman, her sword embedded in his chest. He had told her that they should have run, that they could have avoided their human pursuers, but she simply leapt into their midst and killed them. He had been forced to add another life taken to his conscience, though it was in her defense. What she had done to the last man to die, however, had alarmed him. It was a tiny gesture, something that one paying anything less than very close attention might not have caught. Its significance, however, was quite heavy in his eyes.

An aura of malice had seemed to form around her an instant before it happened, and though it was so, so subtle, he'd felt a change in her from where he had been standing. A gurgling, wretched scream erupted from the dying man's chest before it was cut short in a wet splatter of blood as he was finally killed, the blades of the chainsword scooping vital fluids and shredded tissue and bone debris into its blades before flinging it onto its wielder. His eye had focused on her, as she twisted her sword inside of his chest. It was something he had never observed in her combat before, which from what he had seen was fast and efficient, wasting no time and rendering every strike as deadly as possible, thereby eliminating the need for such crude tactics. Still, she had done it, and at the time that would have least required something of the nature. There was only one reason he could have seen for doing such a thing, and a pit formed in his stomach that he felt likely resembled the one that was probably residing in hers as well as she dwelled on it.

He certainly knew the effects of her losing herself to war; he had experienced it first hand, and almost at the cost of his life. He inwardly grimaced at the memory of the pain she had experienced at recalling what she had done those years before. It had hurt her deeply that she had done such a thing, and then the realization that it had been him had only compounded that. That night, when they had sought shelter together… she had broken down in his arms at the revelation. He frowned. He could not, and would not let her be hurt… even if it was by something that lay within her. Aureleth's failed attempt to hide her troubled expression as she guided them to their destination was also an indication to him that something important had changed, and it was certainly not for the better.

Andron resumed looking ahead, down the seemingly endless tunnel through which they advanced at high speed towards their destination. He could only pray that they would find somewhere safe. While he knew well that he and Aureleth were more than capable of the stresses of prolonged combat, Eruwen was not by any stretch of the imagination of the same preparedness for such a thing. She would not last long at all, and it was already showing. He looked down and, without thinking, plucked a lock of hair that had been resting on her eyelashes away, releasing it and letting it fall with the rest of her hair that dangled over his arm. It no longer shined as it used to, he noticed. Like her soul, her outward appearance was also being tarnished by war and suffering. He frowned, sighing.

Aureleth blinked, not realizing that she hadn't done so in quite some time. The tears that had been pooling in her eyes in a vain attempt to keep them moist against the wind were quivering at the edges. One was finally overpowered by the wind, unable to cling to her any longer, and broke away before sliding down her face and being cast against the seat head behind her on which her hair lay, being soaked into the innumerable strands and causing them to stick to the head rest behind her while the others flowed freely next to them.

The face of the man she had killed with so much hatred in her heart flashed before her again. His panicked eyes, his gaping mouth as he tried to scream, only to eject not sound but the shredded remnants of the contents of his chest cavity from it, burned brightly in her memory. The feelings she had felt towards him flashed through her veins once again, causing her grip to tighten considerably on the controls to the speeder. She sighed, coming back from the slight deviation her mood had taken from its normal smooth and collected manner. She reflected on what had happened. She had killed him with malice, hatred, and a want to see him suffer. It had not only been in the name of duty. What about duty then, she thought? Had she abandoned it? What did her duty even call for at the point at which she found herself? She had acted in defense of her homeworld, she had killed the humans that would have done the same or worse to her, Eruwen, and Andron. What else was there that she had not done? Or had she not acted in defense? Was her hatred a result of their trying to kill Andron? She searched within herself for what had triggered such hatred in an attempt to understand the roiling storm of thoughts and feelings of obligation and others that whirled within her. Andron's mention so closely adjacent to that of duty sparked a connection in her mind that was snuffed out before it could come to full fruition. In her subconscious, though it had lived and died in an instant, its remnants lingered, vying to become whole again.

She looked over to Andron as he cradled one of the few children alive on the craftworld. She smiled for the first time in nearly a day, which was one of the first times she had smiled in decades, if not longer. He had brought unthinkable things into her life. He had brought her happiness. She noted again the manner in which he held the child. It was not the way one would hold something they were simply carrying, or even the way he or she would have held a fallen comrade. Andron cradled her like she was his own life. It was clear to her, as it had been since very shortly after they had found the girl that he greatly cared for her. As Eruwen had shown, she loved Andron back. It had taken time and great effort on his part, but he had finally won the little girl's trust. That may have very well been ruined by the events of the preceding hour, however.

Eruwen had witnessed Andron shooting one of her own people right in front of her, bringing to light a hideous reality that the child had likely not even considered in her innocence. Eruwen loved him, and trusted him, but she had also failed to realize that he was technically the enemy, at least to the rest of their people. That soldier would have killed him, and Andron had acted in self-defense, but would she be able to see it that way? Was Eruwen capable of understanding that even though she had formed a bond with Andron, and that he would give his life for her, he was a hated enemy of their people who would have to kill hers in order to survive? She was so young, so naïve, so fragile that there was a good chance that her image of Andron had died with the Eldar he had killed. Aureleth had even seen the wild-eyed fear of herself in Eruwen. She was in the company of two people who, regardless of whether or not her mind allowed her to believe it, were soldiers, warriors… killers. Andron's pained, gentle soul, merely seeking peace for itself and others, and her own being, full of turmoil, were blackened and corrupted by the horror of war. Worse yet, she realized, Eruwen's loss of innocence was coming from them as well. Their mere presence, their efforts to care for her, regardless of what they did, and how hard they tried, would only add yet more to the darkness filling the child's fragile soul.

And what of the Eldar soldier, she thought? His hurt expression, his frantic pleas for her to answer for her actions, they all whirled at the forefront of her mind. He had said it was treacherous. He had called Andron the enemy. She had objected, of course, but what he said after haunted her.

_He looked her straight in the eyes "Will there not be more to come that he will not spare?"_

Aureleth attempted to shake the thought away, shuddering slightly as she did so.

"_How many of us will die for your little delusion of peace while the rest of us fight for our lives?"_

Aureleth gritted her teeth, trying to crush the memory into oblivion. It remained, however, defiant and determined to chip away at her. Insidiously it tried to permeate every facet of her thoughts, reaching out to make itself all she could think of. She knew what it wanted to do, her deep subconscious understanding what it was trying to tell her, to force her to see. She would have none of it, though. She had made a vow, and she would have fought for him if she had been forced to those several days before when they encountered the rangers. Aureleth knew that Andron would have done the same for her, and he had. They were all they had, and she would do anything to protect that, even if… she could think no further, that one thought suppressed to the point where she was unable to retrieve it.

Her thoughts returned to the contorted face of the man she killed. What about him, though? She, Andron, and Eruwen could have easily run away. _Andron _had wanted to run away. But she didn't; instead she leapt into their midst, what self-restraint she'd had being cast into the flames of war as she gave into the hatred that had been permeating her. She could not be sure. Obviously it was to save her own life in a way, but simply running would have probably been safer, and they could have avoided the situation in which they currently found themselves. She thought back, bringing up as best she could the state of emotions in which she had found herself at that exact moment. She felt the hatred, the anger, the want to defend herself, the child she swore to protect, and the man she loved. But amid that was something she had not noticed at the time, something that she felt was out of place with her normal self. It was dark indeed, seating itself firmly within the hatred and rage she had felt. She had wanted revenge. For what, she was too afraid of her newfound feelings to discern.

Her mind wandered away from the thought of losing herself to battle lust. Something like that would ruin her. She was unsure what to think, having never had to deal with such issues before. She desperately wanted to talk to Andron, and the silence, though short, between them was hurting her more and more with each passing second. She just couldn't bring herself to speak to him, knowing that he had surely understood what had gone through her mind as she had killed those soldiers. It was one of a number of reasons, but others seemed simply impossible to bring into focus for one reason or another.

A soft chime brought her back to reality. They were approaching a turn. Hopefully they would be able to find someplace to hide, and rest… and talk. Aureleth found herself missing the sound of Andron's voice, even if it had only been on the order of hours. She bit her lower lip, and glanced over at him. Andron had fallen asleep, his chin resting on top of Eruwen's head as it slowly rose and fell in tempo with his deep, relaxed breaths. Aureleth smiled, clutching onto the moment as best she could. She could tell, though, that it was not the soundest of sleep. His soul was rife with concern as well, and she knew it was as much for her as Eruwen. She wondered if, in a way, she was like the child he held so tightly. She needed him, too. They all needed each other. It would not be long before they would have to walk again, but there would hopefully be rest and some sense of comfort at the end of it.


	22. Telandril

**Okay... hooooly crap. I'd totally drop out of college if I knew that writing could give me a secure future. Jesus, anyway I'm so sorry to have to do this to you guys but here's some more... well, I guess filler. It's part of the story, and if you were to read the last few chapters of said "filler" over a period that was not measured on the geological scale, then perhaps it wouldn't be as crushingly arduous as it is now. I really apologize for throwing yet more crap at you, but I put as much plot-advancement in it as I could, or at least made it build up to the coming events. I'd like to thank you all again for your patience, as I know my updates have literally slowed down to the point where an IV drip looks like Niagra falls, but life's really dragging me all about right now. I told you though, I'm not leaving. This is going to be another one that I'll update later (this chapter, I mean) by deleting and then resubmitting when I have the rest done. So, here it is. Hope it keeps you occupied in the meantime (hopefully it won't be so long).**

The walls and floor reflected the dim light that emanated from the ceiling in the form of glowing globes suspended in the air. The ceiling of the station vaulted high into the air, fading into blackness as it approached its apex. On the vast sea of flat ground that were the platforms on which empty speeders were resting in their cradles, there lay the various belongings of a civilization. Clothes, baggage, valuables, and innumerable other items were left as their owners fled to what they hoped was some sort of safety and a chance to survive. Just as it were at the other hub, in the Plains of Ildanesh, peoples' true priorities were shown as they unconsciously cast away their physical belongings.

The slightest of whispers, brought into existence by the gentle shifting of displaced air from the darkness of one of the tunnels into the lobby was heard by nobody. A faint light became visible, bleeding into the vast dimness of the platforms as its source approached from the blackness of the tunnel. With it, the soft sound of wind grew louder, followed by the almost melodic hum of a speeder's levitators. With three occupants inside, it emerged from the tunnel.

Andron looked down from their vantage point as they climbed for a better view of the area. It was just as he had seen on Auraxis. Rail stations had been the same, strewn with belongings, clothes, vehicles; bodies… He saw no bodies, however, as he looked down on the near infinite number of possessions abandoned by their owners. His eyes instinctively scanned for any possible threats, though amid the sea of broken shapes and blends of colors he saw nothing. They were the only people in the entire station, all of the others having disappeared some time before he had arrived. They descended, and he felt his stomach rise inside of his abdomen as his organs lagged behind the rest of his body. In his arms he felt Eruwen grow lighter for a moment before settling back down as they came to rest in a cradle. The speeder eased down, the glow from the cradle becoming brighter as its antigravity generators suspended the vehicle just above the ground.

Aureleth let go of the controls, leaning back in her seat and letting her arms fall in her lap as she exhaled deeply. They had arrived at Telandril, the only place she could think of that stood a chance of being untouched by the war. She should have felt relieved, but all she did feel was tired. She closed her eyes, her face warming slightly without the constant breeze washing over it. The silence after the speeder shut itself down was intense, the only noise coming from her slow heartbeat and breathing, and the nearly imperceptible hum of the other cradles and systems throughout the station. She flexed her fingers, feeling and hearing slight cracks in them as her joints adjusted to being moved after grasping the controls for so long. The speeder shifted, the decrease in volume of the cradle's generators indicating that weight had been removed.

"Aureleth," Andron tentatively called out to her. He so desperately wanted to talk to her, to find what was troubling her, but they first needed to find a safe place. Every passing moment, however, slowly whittled away at his resolve, making him grow more and more anxious. He'd felt it ever since they had started walking after he had shot the Eldar, a distance quickly wedging itself between them and only feeling as if it were expanding. She seemed disconnected, and almost afraid to interact with him, avoiding eye contact and acting in a way he had never seen before, even if they had only known each other for but a week. He felt a small wave of warmth wash over him at the thought of the power of their relationship, forming so quickly and with such strength and passion. That bond that they shared was something he would never let be compromised.

"Yes?" Inwardly Aureleth was cursing herself for becoming so easily torn from her surroundings, Andron's voice being the only thing that brought her back from her thoughts. She met his gaze, attempting to hide the inward dread and turmoil that filled her, though judging by his worried expression, she knew that he was aware of something, though how much he knew or had inferred was a mystery to her.

"Should we look around, first?" Andron gestured to the sea of abandoned belongings with his shoulder, for Eruwen was still in his arms. He nodded to the child's still exposed feet, dirtied and marked with small cuts in numerous places, her toes red and tender. He felt a strong urge to shoot himself in the leg for neglecting her as he had, and had to bite back tears as a sudden wave of self-loathing crashed against his heart. He had meant to get her something for her feet in the fields, and damned himself for having forgotten. Eruwen had not uttered a single complaint, however, and it had simply been pushed to the back of his mind to make way for more pressing matters. Still, he should not have made her undergo such abuse.

"Y… yes, that would be wise. I must plan how we will attempt to make our way to the city. " The idea of digging around in others' belongings was foreign to her, and uncomfortable, however given circumstances it was necessary. Following Andron's gesture to Eruwen's feet, she too, felt remorse at having let her go so long barefooted. She almost tried to cherish the moment, as it drew her away from the other thoughts that were plaguing her. Aureleth sighed inwardly. They could not find somewhere to rest soon enough. She was behaving so unlike herself, even though she was quite different than she had been only a few weeks before. She supposed she then considered herself after she had met Andron to be who she truly was. That notion, however, was something that was possibly uncertain as well.

Andron stood with her in his arms and looked across the platform. On it laid everything from clothes to personal belongings, mementos, and picts: an entire culture taken form in scattered and forgotten belongings. He turned back to the speeder and gingerly placed Eruwen into the seat in which he had ridden, resting her head against the headrest. A lock of hair fell into her eyes, each of its individual strands settling in between her eyelashes. Andron reached out and brushed them away. He glanced up across the empty seat that Aureleth had occupied to see that she had gotten up and walked over to a small terminal a few yards away from the speeder. It showed little signs of life, however she held her hands to it and appeared to be interacting with it somehow. It was most likely on a level that he would never understand. He looked to Eruwen one last time before turning away and beginning to make his way through all of the clutter on the platform in search of something for the child, lasrifle in hand.

Andron walked for several yards, periodically looking from the ground to scan his surroundings, ensuring that they were in fact alone. The air tasted stale, devoid of any presence of life. There had not been anyone in there for some time. Each of his footsteps echoed endlessly throughout the station being carried through the air from wall to wall within the cavernous area. He kept his lasrifle at the ready, the position instilled within him through training and endless patrols. He desperately prayed that there wouldn't be a need to use it. He cursed the reigning silence, for it gave him time and clarity to think. He had dissected and examined the exact same thoughts over and over again nearly until the point of becoming nauseous. Aureleth was not well, and she was doing a poor job at hiding it. The edge of his boot came down on something soft, noticeably different from the flat, hard surface of the platform. He stopped and looked down at his feet, removing his foot from what lay under it. A bag laid on its side, roughly the size of his backpack in the speeder, the bag's ornate buckle lock open, and its contents protruding from within. He knelt down, slinging his rifle on his back and began to peruse what lay within. He removed some articles of clothing: another ornate and multicolored gown and matching undergarments. They appeared to be small, as if for a child.

Andron made to sling the garments over his shoulder, but hesitated before staring intently at them in his hand. He knew that he had no time to think of such things, nor the luxury of safety in doing such things, but he could have said the same for everything he had said, thought, and done over the past week. He held a child's belongings in his hands, the worldly possessions of someone who might or might not be alive. He dearly hoped she was, though the chances of him ever confirming such a thing were negligible. He felt a stirring in his stomach, a small pang of guilt twisting his gut. Andron looked back to the speeder as he plied the fabric of the gown in between his thumb and index finger, and saw Eruwen where he'd left her, asleep. Her clothing was beginning to look tattered, and she desperately needed something to protect her feet not only for comfort but for survival. She needed them, and whoever had owned them would have no use for them ever again, most likely. He slung them over his shoulder. He would likely never find a change of clothes for himself for the rest of his life, but at least Eruwen had options. He'd certainly gone much longer than his current span of time without changing. The thought crossed his mind that one day Eruwen and that child might meet. It brought a flash of a smile to his face.

Andron reached back inside and smiled as he felt his fingertips brush up against something firmer. He grasped the items and removed them, grinning at the sight of footwear. He was thankful that they were not meant for formal dress wear, and appeared to only be for general usage. They were of as average a makeup as possible under the ornate and decorative influence of Eldar design philosophy. He stood, though as he did the strap on the bag became caught on his lasrifle, bringing it up with him. He unhooked it from his barrel and placed it aside. Instinctively his eyes returned to the spot on which the bag had been lying. On the ground, slightly dirtied and showing signs of wear was a small doll. He smiled, and stooped down to pick it up. He turned it over in his hands, examining it. It was soft, and aroused a sense of endearment to him. He had never seen any Eldar younger than Eruwen, but the doll he held appeared to be modeled after a very small child comparable to a human of well under a year's age. It had brilliant blue eyes and short, deep black hair that shined slightly in the ambient light. It was in a small garment of red and blue. He chuckled at the seemingly trivial nature of some of the commonalities he had discovered between his and her people. Doll and shoes in hand, he returned to the speeder.

Aureleth looked up from the console, her connection to the Infinity Circuit which also acted as an information network, to see Andron returning with clothes for Eruwen to wear. She smiled, savoring the emotion as long as she could before it was suffocated again by the prevailing dread and confusion that filled her. Their journey would not be much longer until they had a safe place to rest; a fact she was immensely grateful for.

"Andron," Aureleth released her hands from the console, her connection to the network that permeated the entire craftworld dissolving.

"Hmm?" Andron retrieved his pack from the speeder, placing the doll and clothing inside, as well as the shoes. He would give them to Eruwen later. He hoped he could use them in what he feared would be an uphill battle regarding what she had seen him do. He inwardly frowned at the idea of using bribes, or what he considered to be bribes, but given the barrier that existed between them in terms of communication, he had little other choice.

"The city is mobilizing for war," Aureleth turned from the console. "There are many areas that are empty; I have selected one that is not too distant." She returned to the driver's side to retrieve her weapons.

"How far of a walk is it?" Andron was exhausted. Though he had been in conflicts where he'd been required to endure far longer amounts of time without rest, he felt so drained in his current instance. He hefted Eruwen in his arms, thankful that the weight of his pack balanced him well enough that his back muscles would not give out from compensating for Eruwen's weight in front of him.

Aureleth sheathed her sword before reaching onto the seat where she had placed her shuriken pistol and holstered it as well. Ensuring that they were secured, she turned to him. "It should not be far. This station is near the outskirts of Telandril, which is where we will try to find somewhere to stay."

"Alright. Well, I got everything." Andron hefted Eruwen for emphasis. Where the small expression of humor came from he did not know, but it helped to lighten the darkened mood at least somewhat. He was rewarded, greatly in his eyes, with a glimpse at a smile from Aureleth.

"We must go this way," Aureleth indicated an arch at the far end of the station. It would not be far, at least not in reality. She knew, however, that the last small stretch of their journey to a place where they could enjoy peace would be agonizingly long for her conscience and heart.

Andron had carried Eruwen in his arms, his lasrifle slung over his shoulder nestled against his pack. Much to Andron's relief, the child had stirred slightly, indicating that she was entering a more normal state of sleep. The layout of the station, while different, held a similar atmosphere as the one they had come from, though not quite as morbid. There were no bodies to be found save for that of a former lifestyle of peace and prosperity in the form of what lay strewn across the floors and in the emptiness itself. He had absentmindedly started scanning his surroundings for any signs of children having been there, and found none. He only knew for certain the existence of two children on the entire craftworld. He remembered his own home, the memories he had becoming more and more distorted each time he relived them in his mind. There had been children everywhere… then again, it had been nigh on their only source of happiness. Family was all that they'd had for luxury. The irony of a society so rife with opportunity and ways of spiritual, intellectual, and physical development having cast away what he and his people thought to be so precious was striking. Was it perhaps an inevitable social evolution? It certainly could not work with a species that lived only a century or two if they were lucky.

The drawbacks of such a philosophy had shown, too. Aureleth had shown him clearly that there was a price to pay for forgetting such core elements in one's life. While she outclassed him hopelessly both artistically and in terms of sophistication, she had been deprived of what she had realized was likely most important to her all along. Then, as her home was laid to waste by the primitive, unrefined humans, a haunting memory from her past reentered her life, and became what she cherished most. While their kinds squabbled and fought, they merely attempted to escape it and give each other their respective gifts. Andron understood fully that what they had was beyond precious in the world they lived. He couldn't possibly allow it to be lost.

The outskirts had been empty, just as they had been in Korvashil. No signs of life were to be found, but there was no damage to the city at all. In a way, it was almost more eerie, as if everyone had suddenly been dragged into the Warp, never to be heard from again. The layout of the city was different; no longer were they in the efficient concentric ring layout, but in a highly elevated group of platforms on which sections of the city were built. Between the platforms ran massive bridges, their curvaceous architecture bending and reflecting the sunlight in an artistic manner to match the structures themselves. The smaller platforms, still miles across, in a circular pattern around the larger inner platform that held Telandril's center were where they found themselves.

The houses were similar in construction: multi-floored, somewhat compact though not as much as before, and possessing a nearly organic shape. There was one with its door open, which Andron assumed as well as hoped was the result of its owners simply neglecting to close it in the apparent rush to flee to the city's center which had transpired. As he noticed it, Aureleth broke the silence.

"Over there. There is a door open." She pointed to it.

"Just saw it," Andron replied, beginning to walk in its direction.

"There might be someone inside. We should be careful," Aureleth warned him as she fell in stride next to him, hands on her weapons.

Andron inwardly kicked himself for his carelessness. He knew the risks, and had even assessed them and ran through that possibility in his mind yet he had simply ignored the advice given and went anyway. He desperately needed rest, though he felt that there was a high probability that it would not be found wherever he and Aureleth sat. He sighed. There would be a _lot_ they would discuss, he was sure of it. Some of it he did not yet even know but he felt its presence, lingering questions and those that had yet to be given a form he could fully understand.

Andron grunted in frustration, trying to formulate a way to keep Eruwen safe and within reach in the event that they had to escape quickly. He had only been able to think to leave her by the door. Aureleth took notice of it.

"You wait out here and keep her safe. I will only take a moment," she said as she drew her weapons and slid through the opening in the doorway, careful not to disturb it lest anyone inside hear.

Andron sighed, feeling useless. But, he thought, what were they to do in the event that they needed to run? If Eruwen were left somewhere, and he could not even bear to think of taking his eyes off of her, it would severely hinder them in the event that they had to flee. They knew all too well from many experiences that it was not even a few seconds, but mere fractions that made the difference between life and death. Of course, given the area they at least hoped they were in, there was little chance for such a need to arise. Andron scanned his surroundings, wary for any movement and ready to run for cover and return fire if necessary. His concerns proved to be in vain, however, as Aureleth soon emerged from the abandoned home and beckoned him inside. He hefted Eruwen in his arms, adjusting her position before following Aureleth inside. They again found themselves in the residence of another person, perhaps even a family. Andron noted with bitter irony that the layout happened to be identical to that of Eruwen's old home. He sighed, hoping that such an environment would not bring back the memories that would come with it.

"It's the same…" Aureleth spoke the realization for the both of them.

"I know. I don't want to, but we should go up… we'd be harder to find. You think she'll…"

Aureleth sighed, "I don't know. The most important thing, however, is to ensure that we are not discovered. That takes precedence above all else," she began to walk towards the stairs, an ominous feeling being imposed from elsewhere despite the distance that separated the two places. Andron followed, Eruwen still asleep in his arms.

"Where should we put her?" Andron looked into each of the rooms that they passed, making sure to avoid the one at the very end of the hallway and to the left.

"This should be best. It is farthest away from any entrances," Aureleth indicated the room directly across from the one Andron had been avoiding.

They entered, and within it was a large sleeping mat, and similar furnishings to those in Eruwen's old home. There was no portrait, something Andron was secretly relieved was absent. He gingerly placed Eruwen on the mat before covering her. He removed his lasrifle and backpack, placing them next to the mat before collapsing into a sitting position on its edge with a massive sigh.

"Suddenly I can't endure a fraction of what I used to," he lamented as his eyes travelled between what he knew were the two sources of his heightened levels of anguish and worry in battle. As he watched, Aureleth removed her weapons and placed her helmet at the foot of the mat. She looked exhausted.

"Nor can I…" She looked to him, a sad smile on her face. She returned her gaze to the floor in front of her. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, simply staring at their feet and wallowing in their exhaustion, the only sound being that of Eruwen's soft breaths as she slept. There was so much that needed to be discussed, and it was not only regarding their plans for the future.

She wanted to avoid the inevitable for as long as she could, so she brought up their future plans, or at least those for their near future.

"As of now, it appears that we are safe. Most of Telandril is mobilizing for war, and the outskirts are empty. They have for the most part congregated in the central areas. There is yet to be any fighting nearby, so we can hope that it will remain so." She simply blurted out what she'd learned from accessing the Infinity Circuit, trying to fill the silence with anything to keep them from going where she so dreaded.

"So… what do we do now?" Andron felt frustrated with his lack of usefulness in such a situation, but he lacked any considerable knowledge about their surroundings, and so had to rely almost completely upon her.

"I suppose we can wait here… or we can continue moving farther away. To be honest… I do not know," she admitted.

Andron chuckled. He wasn't sure if he had actually believed that they would have survived as long as they had, but they did. As a result, he felt almost lost. They had been living the past weeks moving from goal to goal, each being relatively close to the other in the grand scheme of time. With their arrival at a place that had yet to be touched by war, and stood at least a sliver of a chance of never seeing it, they had come to the point where considering _very_ long term goals was something they had the luxury of doing. Or, perhaps it was not a luxury. He realized that with the time they now had to consider such things, the reality of their situation, and the challenges that they would have to face _if_ they were to survive came to bear. His train of thought stalled on that point, his exhaustion forbidding him from thinking too terribly deeply about it. Silence reigned once more.

Aureleth felt the tension between them. At that point it was almost palpable, looming over them and beckoning for their attention. She desperately wanted to reach out to him, or more so for him to reach out to her. She wanted to feel the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of knowing that she was in the safety of the arms of the one she loved. She could not muster the courage to do so, however. The tempest of confusion that roared within her was keeping her from being able to fulfill her need. She was almost fearful of it. She did not know how she would tell him what she'd felt, and what she had seen and done. Aureleth realized that the paralyzing fear she felt was that of him fearing her, or losing his trust. She felt tears well up in her eyes, the thought of being alone again nearly too much to bear.

Andron stole a glance at Aureleth, who appeared to be on the verge of breaking down. He knew partially why, though it would only be through her that he could truly understand what troubled her so much. She had been acting horribly strange ever since Eruwen had passed out, and he had been spending all of his time trying to formulate a way to understand it before they arrived at a point where they could talk again safely. That time had come, but he still had no real idea what had happened to her or how he was supposed to help. All he knew was that the sight of her with tears in her eyes and a face poorly disguising agony was not something he'd let go on. As he had done for the past weeks, he decided he would simply act according to what he felt was best.


	23. Reinforcements

**Well then... I suppose 10 months is a bit longer than "As fast as possible", but I will admit a few things:**

**-I was certainly losing interest in the story and continuing it, and with that went motivation to continue.**

**-This stemmed from a massive writer's block regarding the subject of "How am I going to continue and have this make sense, and what do I want to happen at the end and the important parts leading up to that?" This is because I am at the stage where I need to start deciding what is going to happen in the final acts and how to get there. What I want to happen is still quite unknown to me, and the time I've had to mull over it I've spent thinking a little, getting frustrated, and then giving up.**

**-A lot of things happened in my life, and most of them entail a busy, BUSY (actually busy, not high-school busy) life. I am now going to major in cyber security, AND I am pursuing a career as a pilot. That's right, that little tidbit I speak of reverently in my profile is now likely going to be my life, with a degree in cyber security as a supplement or backup to that. Both are VERY challenging and VERY competitive careers, and I am doing them at the same time. Gonna be great.**

**So, what's this below? Well, it's a continuation (drummed up in about 40 minutes) of our favorite squad of misfits and their engagement with Eldar forces in the city of Korvashil (where the story began). This is just a little bit to remind you guys I'm alive, and also to hopefully ask for affirmation that my writing skills haven't deteriorated too badly in the almost year that I've spent away.**

**Also, happy WAY belated 2 year anniversary, and thank you to all of you who've stuck with me for so long.**

**I've also found out tonight that Suffer Not the Xenos to Live ranks #3, #4, and #7 in follows, favorites, and reviews on the Warhammer section of Fanfiction. This is out of over 2,500 other stories. When I saw that I was at a loss for words. I had no idea I was literally in the top 10 and even top 3 in the whole category. That certainly was a refreshing boost.**

**The upcoming conversation between Andron and Aureleth is REALLY giving me trouble, and for that I apologize in advance. I do have some things about the ending sorted out, but how I'm gonna get us there and some other elements are still not even close to certain or even thought about. Either way, thank you for your patience, or I understand if you've long since ran out.**

**~Advicepuppy**

The Chimera roared through the deserted streets of "Thunderhead", known to its inhabitants as Korvashil, towards the skirmish that had erupted between Eldar and Imperial forces. The distant snap of lasrifles and the shriek of Eldar shuriken weaponry was dim, but grew louder in time with the heartbeats of the men that the armored vehicle would disgorge into combat, supporting the members of their company that composed 12th Squad. All they knew was that what awaited them was a fearsome engagement and that 12th Squad had apparently taken heavy casualties.

"So who sent the vox?" One of the occupants, sitting towards the front of the crew compartment, was reinserting a power cell into his lasrifle.

"I think it was 3rd," responded another.

"You mean those annoying assholes that got lost in the outskirts a couple weeks ago?" a third quipped.

"That would be them, but right now they're holding back an outnumbering Eldar force and we are going to support them. Their vox operator reported that their numbers are growing. We're in for a hell of a fight, gentlemen." Sergeant Regin, leader of 4th Squad, stood at the front of the crew compartment, bracing himself on the overhead railings and rocking back and forth as he kept balance against the jarring dips and bounces of the Chimera on the cratered terrain. "We'll be there in two minutes. Get ready."

"KRELL!" Dolan roared. Shuriken were hissing through the air around him or burying themselves in the armor plating of the Valkyrie that he hid behind. He ducked away from sparks and projectiles before snapping off several shots in the general direction of his foes. Behind them, the Chimera's bolters continued their chatter as their gunner fired bolts and profanities at the growing enemy forces, cursing their agility that made his job unnecessarily hard.

"They're coming! They're sending another squad now, it should be on its way! They're bringing another Chimera!" Krell shouted over the din of battle and the deafening roar of Johlem's nearby heavy stubber before rising slightly above his cover and firing off several shots. He was quickly forced back down by a barrage of shuriken that turned some of the debris near his face into dust and shrapnel, drawing a trickle of blood from his cheek. He released a string of curses instead of lasfire in response, Johlem also ducking down but only slightly as he quickly whipped another belt of ammunition off of his person and fed it into the weapon.

Norrum, one of the two surviving members of 12th Squad, sent a jet of flame down the street. It turned the dust on the ground to ash or glass, leaving blackened streaks under its path before it lapped at the armor of one of the Eldar as it attempted to move from one cover to the next. It stumbled, and a single, particularly bright lasbolt impacted low and to the left inside of its center mass, causing the warrior to crumple to the ground. Several more shots impacted the body from various directions, ensuring that the soldier was dead.

Bren Darmerth smiled as he readjusted his aim to take another shot. He squeezed the trigger. It missed, considerably. He sighed and lined up again. An Eldar roughly 100 meters away raised its head to fire. He quickly shifted his aim, placing the intersection of the crosshairs directly on the enemy's head. He exhaled slowly, feeling his ribcage shrink slightly and squeezing the grip on the rifle harder, the soft tissue of his hand swelling under the pressure to counteract the tiny change in aim that his breathing had caused, and squeezed off another shot. The concentrated beam of light covered the distance instantaneously, vaporizing most of the soldier's helmet as it tried in vain to absorb the immense amounts of thermal energy it was assaulted with. Inside, the soldier's head was vaporized before erupting out of the glowing, molten hole in between the eye gems of the helmet in a mist. As he crumpled to the ground, the rest of his body as well as everything a few yards around him was consumed in a ball of flame as his finger tightened on the missile launcher he held.

"Throne of Terra..." Bren exhaled along with the last of the breath he had been holding before he'd fired. He glanced at the Chimera; the gunner was reloading the heavy bolters. On the very edge of his hearing, he picked up the sound of a loud, clunky engine roaring.

"Almost there, get ready!" The driver shouted back into the troop compartment.

Dolan fired several more shots, one of them catching an Eldar in the chest. As he ducked back into cover, he heard Bren in his ear. "Sir, I think the reinforcements are here."

In affirmation of his conclusion, a Chimera barreled down the street towards them before screeching to a halt, skidding several feet, its twin heavy bolters already sending their deadly fire into the ranks of the approaching enemy.

"Out! Out! Move it!" Sergeant Regin shouted as he leapt from the bowels of the armored vehicle, his subordinates pouring out behind him and spreading over the street to cover. Sergeant Regin immediately sought out Dolan and ran to him before hunkering down next to him in cover.

"We're in for a real bout, here!" Dolan shouted as he continued to exchange fire with the enemy.

"We've brought more ammo and another Chimera, but the rest of the company is awaiting tasking back at HQ. We're all you're gonna get."


End file.
